Saviour in the Night
by Pereybere
Summary: Tortured and broken by her memories of an absent Edward, Bella is saved by Carlisle. Takes place during New Moon.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Saving Bella

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters mentioned herein. I am merely using them for my own mindless entertainment and hopefully, the entertainment of others. No infringement intended.

**Rating: **T for now, M in a chapter or so.

**Summary: **Tortured and broken by her memories of an absent Edward, Bella is saved by Carlisle. Bella/Carlisle – this takes place when Edward has left in New Moon and Bella is going through her depressed stage.

**Author's Note: **Well... I seem to be developing a penchant for the unlikely romances, don't I? Draco and Hermione in Harry Potter, a bit of Cam and Wendell in Bones and now Bella and Carlisle in Twilight, which is arguably the most unlikely of them all. For anyone who doesn't relish the idea of the most all-consuming romance in literary history being broken up, please don't read this. It certainly isn't compatible with an Edward/Bella-For-All-Eternity scenario.

Please review! It so makes my day!

***

Sometimes she felt as though she were being watched; like the very darkness that surrounded her had probing all-seeing eyes that could look beyond the mere facade of normalcy into the far, yearning reaches of her soul. She believed it was her imagination playing tricks on her and that her mind fabricated what it needed to in order for her to survive the all-consuming heartache. Edward was gone now and he didn't stand invisible amongst the shadows, watching.

The dreams were painful in their vividness; amber eyes and cold alabaster-like skin, long slender fingers entwined with hers and an otherworldly laugh that both aroused and beguiled. The desperate eroticism of her subconscious was torture, born in the furthest crannies of her mind where she so very much wished that they would stay. Daytime preoccupations were of Edward Cullen and his adoptive family and night-time brought alive the memories that she didn't dare, for sanity 's sake, remember while she was awake.

In the dead of night, when she woke half choked by a sob in her throat and covered in a sickly cold sweat, she would be certain that someone had stood in the corner of her room and had even convinced herself that she had once witnessed the flash of a golden iris. The instant illumination of her bedside lamp had extinguished any semblance of hope that she'd harboured in her heart – her room was empty – it always was.

The weeks blended seamlessly from one to the next, turning into months while her heart still ached and her soul – the soul that Edward had been so intent on protecting – still yearned for the man who had broken it. The belief that something was looking over her only intensified in her mind as the days rolled by until she had come to rely it – like an invisible guardian angel.

Cunning plans entered her mind when she allowed them; sleep with the light on and there would be no way for her nocturnal visitor to escape. Then she fretted that such a move might drive him – or her, although she was sure that it was a he – away. She loathed the thought of losing the last thread of contact she had with the other world in which she had become so captivatingly entangled. Bella could merely pray that whoever watched over her could sense how urgently she wished to make contact and permit her so.

Quite how it happened was not entirely how she – or he for that matter – had anticipated that it would.

There was no nightmare, no awaking from a turbulent dream or hiccoughing a sob in her constricted throat. Her mind simply awoke from a subconscious state and she lay in the darkness of her room with her eyes closed and her body numb and still. It was the first night in an uncountable number that she had not dreamt of Edward and the feeling evoked by this knowledge bordered on euphoria. Bella never imagined that a day would come in which she relished the absence of him in her mind.

As the minutes ticked by and the sensation of peace and calm ebbed away, she became aware of that presence close by. She had not moved, her breathing had not changed and the unknown entity sharing the sanctum of her bedroom had not yet realised that she was awake. An excited flutter possessed her yearning heart and she swept her tongue across her dry lips and whispered into the darkness.

"I am awake... whoever you are... please don't leave." The stillness of the night was encompassing and she heard nothing from her mystery intruder. Bella's arm slipped from beneath her bedclothes and her fingers fumbled for the lamp switch, her heart seemingly ceasing to beat entirely. It took a perceived eternity before her bedroom was bathed in a pale honeyed glow and the stoic face emerged from the shadows and set her soul alight with newfound hope.

Dressed as he always was in a shirt and tie that matched his sweater and a long woollen scarf, Carlisle Cullen looked nothing short of haunted as he sat in the old rocking chair in the corner, so still that it was impossible to tell whether he was lived or not. His slender hands were stretched across his thighs, brilliantly pale against the dark wool of his pants. He watched her with amber eyes framed by long dark lashes and didn't blink.

Bella stared back for a long, breathless time while her heartbeat thundered nosily in her eardrums. Was she experiencing a lucid dream? A dream so realistic as to be interpreted as actuality? If she moved, would the beautiful man before her simply disappear? She slipped from the mattress and took a tentative step forward while golden eyes continued to watch her. She saw something in those irises that she had never seen before and something that she couldn't understand and could only describe as turmoil.

Sinking to her knees at the toes of his shiny shoes, Bella swallowed hard and reached an unsteady hand outward, edging closer to the alabaster face before her. When the tips of her fingers were so painstakingly close to the smooth skin of his cheek that she felt the icy chill brush against her, his hand moved in a lightening flash and encircled her wrist in a iron-like vice. She drew a noisy breath into her lungs as she familiar touch of a vampire sunk into her skin and all but intoxicated her.

Carlisle looked as tortured as she felt, battling with emotions that could not be ascertained without words. Without explanation. His fingers held her wrist tightly but his thumb stroked gently over her fluttering pulse-point – his skin like polished stone against hers. Bella drew a lingering breath into her lungs, tasting the sweet scent that radiated from his ethereal being. Her eyes closed in ecstasy for a brief moment before yearning to drink in his image once more.

"Carlisle..." she whispered in a broken sob, pulling herself to her feet and entangling herself in a hard embrace that wasn't altogether reciprocated. He sat still and impassive while she dripped fat tears unto his shirt, along the column of his throat. Her chest heaved with emotion that was all but impossible to contain and her fingers sank into the golden-white strands of his hair, clutching at his skull as though she were demented at the thought of him disappearing. The broken and scattered pieces of her life seemed so painfully close and she understood too well how easily the might vanish once more. "Don't go..." she begged, clutching now at the luxuriant fabric of his shirt. He was so solid beneath. So real. So unimaginably tangible.

When his arms came around her, enveloping her in a cold and secure embrace, Bella's vestiges of resolve were obliterated. She clung to him, sobbed painfully into the nook between his shoulder and neck and prayed that his embrace would tighten further. To be suffocated by his presence was only too welcome.

How much time passed, Bella was not sure. Long after the heaving sobs had subsided he had continued to hold her, his body rigid beneath her soft, malleable curves. His hand stroked the waves of her hair, soothing away her torment as one might soothe a baby and Bella held tightly to the feeling of joy that ensconced her for the first time in months.

Sniffling and only mildly embarrassed she extracted her head from the cool, comforting place in which she had burrowed it and examined the damp patches on his sweater and along the collar of his shirt. Touching the fabric she lifted her eyes and attempted to look contrite. The turbulence in his eyes stole away her breath and vanquished any thoughts of humiliation or apology. Bella did not recognise this Carlisle. His irises were honeyed and golden but filled with real, physical hunger. And not for her blood. When his cool hand slid over her bare arm then, from her shoulder, down and past her elbow to encircle the circumference of her dainty wrist, Bella became only too aware of her scantily clad body and the wanton manner in which she had flung herself upon him.

"I'm sorry," she declared unsteadily.

"Please don't apologise, Bella," he insisted huskily. When he shifted and the old chair creaked, she felt panic claw into her heart.

"Don't go," she insisted again, breathy and desperate. Carlisle stilled, expecting a barrage of questions that did not come. "I need you to stay." Her urgency was conveyed and the solidity of his embrace around her returned. Her tense limbs loosened.

"You must return to bed, Bella," he whispered, his voice like a toxin that dulled her senses. It was a supernatural trait amongst the vampires. She shook her head, an infinitesimal gesture. "You must." Carlisle was insistent, slipping his arm under her thighs and lifting her without effort.

"You are alone..." she murmured against him. "Where are the others?" He placed her on the mattress, the surface of which was doubly soft after the hardened lines of his body. As he placed the blanket around her shoulders, his smooth hand affectionately across her forehead, he watched her with an openly pained expression.

"They're somewhere else," he said vaguely. Carlisle had separated from his coven? For how long? Why? What did the Cullens think of this? What did _Edward_ think of it? "So many questions in your eyes..." he murmured, almost to himself. "You mustn't torment yourself, Bella." She grasped his hand, squeezing as tight as she could.

"Will you come back?" she asked, needing his presence as a remedy to her broken heart. Carlisle wasn't Edward but Bella realised that he did not need to be, that the questions she had could remain unspoken for now. He nodded slowly and this was enough promise for her. "Stay a little while longer." Charlie's bed creaked in the next room, a sure sign of him beginning to wake and that dawn approached. Carlisle wouldn't stay long, she knew.

He knelt at the side of her bed, reaching to extinguish the lamp and plunge the room into darkness once more. Mythical though it was that vampires couldn't survive in sunlight, it was true that they seemed to prefer the dark. Bella sighed and closed her eyes, her mind racing with the innumerable questions that Carlisle had recognised in her expression. She levelled her breathing and pretended to sleep, hoping that it would encourage Carlisle to stay awhile longer.

When he stood, she sensed him leaning over her and kept her expression still while he bent his head and brushed a tentative, fleeting kiss across her forehead. Her breathing hitched and he pulled back, stopped only by her hand framing his cool face. "Carlisle?" she whispered, afraid that her voice might break the spell. "Why did you come back?" His breath fanning against her face was intoxicatingly sweet and Bella wished for nothing more than to drink it in. To fill herself with it.

"Oh Bella..." he replied in an equally soft whisper. He sounded heartbroken, conflicted, tormented. "How could I not?" She opened her mouth to speak but he slipped from her touch and left her feeling bereft and oddly empty. _How could I not? _The words whirled in her mind and seared in the same way his fleeting kiss to her forehead had.

"Carlisle?"

The room offered silence and nothing more. He was gone.

-end-

It's 2.00am here in the UK and now I am going to go to bed, but first thing tomorrow I am going to work on the next chapter while the muse has struck me. Please tell me what you think of this so far... I hope you enjoyed. I found that there was so little out there for Bella/Carlisle and I wanted to offer my thoughts to the fandom. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Rating: **T now but leading up to M.

**Disclaimer: **The characters mentioned herein do not belong to me and there is no infringement intended in my playing about with them.

**Author's Note: I have changed the title of this story as I have noticed that there was another 'Saving Bella' in the archive and as that author used the title first, I decided to change mine. I hope mynxi, author of the original 'Saving Bella' doesn't feel as though I have stepped on her toes! Although thankfully fan-fic writers are mostly a good natured and friendly bunch! **Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the first chapter! I am so pleased that you enjoyed it. I know that this pairing is far from the norm in the fanfic world, so I appreciate those who have give it a chance. Thank you again, and I hope you will also enjoy this chapter.

***

She was waiting for him, her silhouette moving back and forth past the window as she paced. Her hands had been planted on her slim hips for almost fifteen minutes and her movements were impatient and jerky. It was almost one-thirty am and he would normally have taken residence in her old rocking chair long before this. After meeting with her last night, after making his presence known to her, something in his mind had shifted. Suddenly his 'checking in' on Bella seemed more real – and far more of a betrayal to Edward.

He had never intended for his concern for Bella to elevate to trespassing into her home and watching her like a voyeur in the middle of the night. But as the nights had blurred and the occasional incident had become habit, he almost itched for the sun to set and for her to go to bed. Why, he never fully allowed himself to understand. To understand would be to admit and even if the fleeting notion of his growing affection for Bella flittered through his mind occasionally, he never permitted himself to grasp it and dwell on it.

Charlie Swan's cruiser was missing from the driveway and he assumed that the Chief was on night duty. On these nights, he paid particular attention to his vigilance, knowing that she slept alone in the rambling house and that Victoria could easily come back to claim her life. _Why had Edward never thought of that? He wants to protect her from *us*. _Immediately following these feelings of intense resentment came equally intense guilt, a crashing torrent of emotions that he had tried for so long to squelch. This was Edward's girl and Edward's duty. _A duty that he shunned! _Carlisle closed his eyes and rested against the body of an ancient tree, breathing the spicy air into his lungs and wishing, not for the first time in his three centuries as a vampire, that he could truly appreciate the night air like a human could.

On the other side of the road, a window slid open and Bella's head poked out. "I _know_ you are out there!" she whispered in a low and impatient hiss. "Come inside!" Carlisle straightened at once, sinking deeper into the thick undergrowth and wondering how she could always sense them so accurately. There were many curious things about Bella Swan that so dangerously fascinated his plundering mind. So many oddities in the supposedly normal girl.

His fingers clutched the length of his long wool scarf, a useless artefact that offered no warmth to his cold skin, and he contemplated whether or not he should show himself. He had given Bella his word that he would return and he had decided that it was his duty to ensure she was well. The others had insisted that Bella's pain would only intensify when he left and that returning to Forks was a foolish idea. When she had clung to him the night before, sobbing breathlessly into his shirt, he had known his choice had been the correct one. Bella's torment was unlike anything he had seen in humans before.

She looked as though she might fall out of the window and he frowned. She'd become something of a daredevil, risking life and limb for a momentary adrenaline rush. Carlisle had not yet determined why but watching her behaving as though her life were somehow replaceable or that she was invincible filled him with insurmountable rage – for Edward. He was not accustomed to feeling so dourly towards his family and Edward had been his first transformation... they had always shared a bond... an understanding. Yet now, Carlisle was tempted to change Bella himself and risk Edward's wrath, if it would simply bring some sense of peace to her tormented soul.

Bella leaned further, peering into the forest with wide eyes that were filled with hope and despair in seemingly equal measures. What was the point in keeping her human if she would continue to be as miserable as this? Couldn't Edward _see_ it? Couldn't he see the flaws in his misguided logic?

"Carlisle!" Her voice rose a notch. A dog barked anxiously somewhere along the street and trash cans clattered. He flinched, understanding briefly that notion of wringing her neck that Edward had spoken of on occasion. Exhaling a breath – something that he was not required to do but was strangely cathartic – he stepped out of the gloom and her eyes immediately met his. Carlisle lifted a finger to his lips and urged her to be silent. She obeyed his unspoken command and slipped back into her room, disappearing from sight. Within seconds the front door flung open and she stood in the doorway, pyjama clad and visibly trembling.

He crossed the space between the tree-line and her house in a mere flash of time, standing before her with a hardened and almost impassive expression. She could not understand the turbulent emotions that ravaged him inside; the guilt and the compassion, the anger and resentment and most forbidden and unacknowledged of them all – lust. The kind of infuriatingly unquenchable lust that he had never experienced before in all his hundreds of years. He had witnessed it amongst humans and had been intrigued by it. First in a biological sense, clinical an analytical, from a doctor's perspective and then as decades merged into centuries and the intrigue shifted to one ruled by emotions and the need to understand lust and desire that went beyond mere necessity. Captivation. Magic. Intoxication. And how Bella Swan so intoxicated and captivated him. More so than he could admit to himself... _especially_ himself.

Her small hands folded around the lapels of his heavy wool coat and pulled him towards her in a fierce hug that, if he were human, might have knocked the breath from his lungs. He felt her warm cheek press against his chest and caught the delicate scent of her hair as her head shifted just beneath his nose. Despite himself, he inhaled her deeply and found himself embracing her with at least as much urgency as she embraced him. Bella _needed _him, indeed... but just how much he need her?

"We should go inside," he said gruffly, barely finding his voice in the maelstrom of emotions that could easily have consumed him. How real and human she felt in his arms, lusciously so. "If your neighbours see... rumours might start." No one yet knew of his return, because he had never determined himself just how long his stay in Forks may be. It had been months now, staying out of sight like a ghostly entity that no one should see. Even Bella wasn't supposed to see. He had wrestled with his conscience and insisted to himself during that day that he had no time to escape the night before but the lie was futile and he had been forced to accept the harsh reality of the situation and admit that was he simply wanted her to be aware of him.

With the door closed and the world beyond shut from his mind, Carlisle took a moment to study her – an addictive habit to which he had grown to relish and even enjoy. She looked weary but embers of hope flickered in her eyes, passing like the remnant ashes from an exploding volcano caught in the wind. The hope came and went but when it was there, it was alive and real and it overwhelmed his troubled soul to know that it was _he_ that had brought the light back into her beautiful eyes.

"Why were you hiding?" her tone had lost the deep appreciation and was almost accusing. He could hardly blame her for fearing being left alone. Abandoned. Deserted. His fists tightened inside his coat pockets. "You promised you would come back." How the embers burned now, fanned to flames by her annoyance and hurt. He blinked slowly, studying this fieriness with a strange sense of intrigue. Bella had always been feisty and it had often left his emotions confused.

"And I would have," he replied evenly – far more collected than he felt. "It's complicated, Bella." _Edward doesn't know I am here. My family don't support my choice. I have alienated myself from the people I have spent an eternity with because... _Her lips were a thin line and her arms had been folded in a protective armour across her chest. She looked angelic and devilish simultaneously, happy and sad, anxious and appeased... a multitude of conflicting emotions.

"Complicated," she echoed without irony. "What's so complicated? Edward sent you to keep an eye on me because he won't come back himself?" She was bitter, resenting. He understood this particular emotion better than she would believe. "Well you can go to wherever the others are and tell Edward-"

His hands flew from his pockets and rested on her shoulders. Her skin felt hot against his and although he intended to speak immediately, his words were momentarily lost in the sensation of her warmth. "Edward doesn't know I am here, Bella. We were forbidden." She absorbed this and a thousand new questions and realisations surged forward in her dark eyes. Human eyes. "He isn't with the rest of the family... and when he returns to them... I fear the consequences of my betrayal of him." He did. Edward would read the thoughts of the others and would soon make his disapproval known.

Carlisle's thumbs caressed the smooth column of her throat and felt her swallow hard. She looked broken and so profoundly betrayed that he was unable to linger on his fears for Edward's feelings. Edward had fallen in love with this girl and had deserted her... whether he believed those actions to be noble or not, Carlisle considered them cowardly. How lucky his adoptive son was to have such unwavering love from a human girl. Such acceptance and passion.

A lone tear tumbled over her lower lashes and trekked a moist path to her chin where the pad of his thumb squashed it and brushed the memory of it away. She had cried too many tears, had the loving beauty in her heart tarnished by too much heartache. "Please don't cry, Bella..." his hadn't intended to speak the words aloud or for them to sound quite so agonized. She looked away from him, down at her feet, struggling to compose her wayward feelings.

"I believed he would come back, Carlisle..." her voice was unsteady, the melody lost replaced by a haphazard sound that did not resemble her at all. She was losing the fight for her sanity. She looked up then, filled with the kind of rage even Carlisle couldn't fathom. "Damn you!" she cried gutturally, anguished. "Damn you all! I wish I had never met _any_ of you!" She pummelled his chest with tight fists, her arms like pistons that were driven by the energy of her temper. He let her, standing motionless while her palms opened and her hands struck his face, his neck, his shoulders. "You rotten _creatures_ destroyed me!" Her limbs loosened like spaghetti as the energy was exerted. She released a shuddering breath, mixed with a heavyhearted sob and collapsed against him.

Carlisle held her as she whimpered apologies over and over, like a mantra that somehow soothed her. He shushed her, fingers tangling in the long silken strands of her dark hair, touching her scalp, familiarising himself with her... God above... she was beyond his comprehension. _Edward you fool... you goddamn idiot_. She was weak when she reclined back, her eyes searching his face as though she were reading a religious tablet that might lead her on a road to salvation. His eyes, his nose, his mouth... over and over as if memorising him. Perhaps she was. Memorising him in case he abandoned her.

He couldn't have anticipated her leaning forward and pressing her soft mouth to his, or the incredible surge in his heart when she did. She froze, her lips barely skimming his and her body rigid in his arms. Regret... he sensed instant regret and then something else. Seconds passed, too quickly, and Bella lingering kiss disappeared. She lifted her hand, hiding her eyes and her shame. "I am sorry, Carlisle," she murmured, voice laden with lament and humiliation.

Carlisle, unable to fully comprehend what had happened or her subsequent apology, stared blankly at her lovely face for an age before his desires and emotions burst forth like a flash flood. He reached for her, grasping her face and ignoring the little gasp of surprise that escaped her mouth and kissed fiercely, her supple body crashing against the wall and knocking an gaudy oil painting from its hook. She tasted like forbidden nectar against his lips, delicious and illicit. Her tongue welcomed the exploration of his, her lips suckled and tasted and devoured with as much fervour and abandon as he. His fingers tangled in her hair, knotted and tugging as though he were desperately afraid she might stray. Bella did not. Her slender hips jerked against his, filled with desire and urgency that in turn made him feel as though he might combust. She was lithe, wriggling against the strength of his embrace and her legs found their way around his, the apex of her thighs pressed so tantalisingly against the rigidness of him, straining against his pants.

He felt her fingers tighten in his hair and her head shift back to expose the milky soft column of her throat to his ravenous mouth. Oh how easily this could end in disaster... he had never been so overcome with desire... what if he lost control? What if he sank his teeth into her tender flesh and feasted on the sweet, ambrosia that right now coursed around her veins? He tasted her skin, pushed himself to the limits of his self-control, ran his tongue along her neck and felt the blood pounding against his mouth. She gasped when his teeth skimmed over her skin, wriggled desperately closer. _She wants it_...

Bella breathed his name, a ragged plea for release. He could easily find himself in a frenzy from which there would be no return. His mouth returned to hers, his control strengthening again while her mouth ravaged his. Her body rocked against him, the heat from between her thighs and the friction of her grinding with such abandon left him feeling half euphoric and half something else he had never experienced before.

She broke their kiss and peered into his eyes, lust and yearning all too apparent in the smoky depths of hers. He could see her desperation for release and thrust against her, the sensation against his hardened shaft almost too much to bear. Bella's nails dug into his skin, her hips rolling frantically and then she froze... went rigid in his arms and seemed to tremble with the force of her shuddering release. Carlisle held her, encouraged her with soft murmuring of approval... he told her she was beautiful... oh how she was.

With a sated whimper she sagged against him, her legs wrapped around his waist and her face buried in his shoulder. The scent of her arousal was divine, filling his lungs with its musky sweetness. She weighed virtually nothing in his arms, but the softness and warmth of her was beyond heavenly.

"Oh God..." she whispered against him. "We shouldn't have." Despite the words, he heard no remorse in her breathy tone. "Carlisle what have we done...?" He soothed her, wrestling with his own feelings. "Why don't I regret it?" He couldn't answer her, couldn't explain it himself.

"I don't know..." he sighed against the top of her head. Aftershocks of her orgasm continued to course through her, making her tremble in his embrace and he felt tortured that he had not quite reached that point. "You must sleep now, Bella." Her head lifted, her eyes filled with beguiling mischief.

"Don't go acting all parental and fatherly, Carlisle," she admonished. "It doesn't jive with what we just did." He found the corners of his mouth tweak despite the seriousness of the situation. "I'll go to bed in awhile. We need to talk."

There it was. The words spoken by women across the globe that never failed to set a man's heart on edge. Whether it was the seventeenth century or the twenty-first, the affects were always the same. _Oh God..._ he thought as she slipped from his embrace and edged towards the kitchen. _I am in so much trouble. _

_-End-_

So what did you think of the second chapter of this little tale? I hope you enjoyed it. Please do let me know and I would love to know whether or not you think this is worth continuing. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Rating: **Still T, but I promise that M is coming.

**Disclaimer: **The characters mentioned herein do not belong to me. There is no infringement intended.

**Author's Note: **Well thank you everyone for your lovely reviews for this story! I really appreciate all of the very kind comments and encouragement. I hope you continue to enjoy the sudden striking of my muse. What _is_ it about vampires?

***

She had never experienced the overwhelming joys of an orgasm before – or the frenzy of emotions that occurred immediately following it; a mixture of exhaustion, euphoria, desperation and languid peacefulness that left her oddly sated. It made the cigarette cliché make more sense. It also made her strangely eager to experience her next. Her mind focused solely on this as she went through the mundane task of preparing herself coffee. There was little point in asking Carlisle because, like all vampires, he would always refuse.

He sat at the table, statuesque and as captivatingly handsome as mythical god. His tawny eyes followed her movements closely and the edge of his jaw twitched occasionally – clearly his mind was whirring in a direction Bella couldn't fathom. The clock ticked steadily, filling the room with a sense of time lost. Time passing by. When Carlisle spoke his voice was like the soothing bars of a lullaby.

"You wished to talk?" he prompted gently. He had removed the heavy wool scarf from around his neck and had draped it over the back of his chair. His smooth throat was exposed now, more so when he had pulled his silk tie loose. Bella swallowed hard, confused by her interest in him. Was it because she hankered so desperately after Edward that such proximity to a vampire – any vampire – left her filled with urgency? _No_, she thought insistently. _That doesn't feel right._

"I did," she replied. "I do." She felt exposed to him, this man who had evoked such desire and pleasure in her body – the kind of pleasure she hadn't known existed. "Esme...?" Carlisle's beautiful face pinched in grief, his glorious eyes closing as he exhaled a long breath. When he stretched his hand outward Bella noticed the absence of his wedding ring on his finger and searched his face for answers.

"My decision to return to Forks was not met with the approval of my family, Bella." His voice was pained. Her heart ached, knowing that she had unwittingly destroyed a family that had existed together for an unfathomably long time. "My betrayal is not to Esme but to Edward, who will never forgive me for..." the words remained unspoken, perhaps too explicit and erotic for the seriousness of their conversation. Bella felt suddenly indignant, so consumed with anger for Edward Cullen that she couldn't imagine the harsh red mist of her rage disappearing.

Placing her cup on the table with more force than necessary, she sank into the chair facing his. "Edward does not _own_ me," she insisted fiercely. "Edward _left_." Why, after so many months of defending and pining for him, she was now so infuriated by him, Bella did not know. It meant something that Carlisle had been the man that had returned to ensure her wellbeing. It plucked a string in her consciousness to know that Carlisle stood by his moral code so resolutely that he had dismissed the feelings of his family – for her.

"He does own you..." the contradiction to her assertion sounded melancholy. "He owns your heart and that is the deepest and most profound way to own a person." In his eyes she saw that there were words unspoken and wished desperately that she could read his mind. Understand the labyrinth of his psyche. Carlisle had always fascinated her, from the moment she had met him. He was interesting, cultured and when he spoke he always had something meaningful to say.

She recalled suddenly the night of her eighteenth birthday, in his study while he sewed neat stitches into her arm. How he had lifted his eyes and peered into her soul when she'd asked if, by 'damned' he meant 'hell'. He had looked then, as he did now, as though he had something more that he wished to say. Bella lost herself in the memory of how intimate his office had felt, how a brief thought had crossed her mind as her wrist rested on his hip... how she had been so embarrassed and caught off guard by the intensity of that forbidden thought that she had blushed.

"I'm confused," she admitted. Talking frankly with Carlisle was something she had always permitted herself. He had never mollycoddled her or tried to 'protect' her from the truth of his, _their_, existence.

"By what?" he urged. His lips were tight and she was struck by the vivid memory of his searing kiss. Though his skin was cool, his fervour had been anything but. A hot blush crept to her cheeks and she looked away, burned by the recollection. "Bella?" How longingly he spoke her name, as though he revered her. As though he were in awe of her. She had not experienced that before. Edward had never been in awe of her. Amused, yes. Protective, yes. In awe of... no. Despite all that he had seen in his long existence, Carlisle had the ability to make her feel as though she had somehow stopped him in his tracks. From the moment he had shone a light in her eye in the hospital room, that sense of bewitchment had been evident.

"By the way I feel about you." She didn't look at him then, fearful that his incredibly perceptive mind might read the glint in her eye. How _did_ she feel about him? Edward had broken her heart and Carlisle had arrived, like a paranormal hero on a chariot to draw her out of the gloom, to bring her back into the land of the living while mending her raw wounds. Was she swept away by his heroism?

His cold hand covered hers, entwining their fingers together. Her skin looked remarkably dark compared to the paleness of his. "I understand that." A heavy sigh followed. "I have never experienced this before." As his thumb brushed tenderly over her pulse again, she lost control of her concentration. The gesture was so incredibly intimate and familiar that a molten warmth pooled in her belly.

"E-experienced what?" she asked unsteadily, eyes following the circular motion of his caress, wondering if he were hypnotising her or putting a spell on her senses. Her skin certainly seemed to be hyper-alert. The smallest hairs on the back of her neck prickled into awareness, a delicious tremble vibrated along her spine and she drew a ragged breath into her mouth.

"It's complicated, Bella." It was the second time tonight that he had uttered these words and this time she wasn't willing to dismiss it. When his fingers released her she regretted the loss of his touch, itched to reach forward and capture his hard, cold hand in hers once more.

"You're a highly educated doctor, Carlisle," she insisted quickly. "I'm sure you can muster together enough words to explain." He smiled at this but his eyes were mirthless.

"And how exactly does one describe feelings of yearning, Bella?" There it was again; that lustful awe in his voice when he spoke her name. Like an erotic caress that set her on edge. "Because that's what I do. I _yearn_." He was looking at her with unfulfilled longing. She reached for her coffee, gulping a mouthful and ignoring the scalding liquid as it slid down her throat, grateful for the distraction. "It frightens you, doesn't it?" He quite correctly guessed. "Me too." She had never imagined Carlisle Cullen as the vulnerable type. He had always portrayed himself as resolutely strong and level-headed. She thought of Esme and wondered what had transpired between them that would end their marriage.

"He broke my heart... I was sure it would never mend. I'm not sure it has." When she thought of Edward she still physically ached, but the pain was different; numbed almost. Something else existed in its place, stronger and more vibrant than anything she'd allowed herself to feel for a long time. "Should I spend an eternity pining for Edward?" When she looked up at him, Carlisle's majestic eyes said words his lips would never dare utter.

"That isn't for me to decide," he told her evenly. "I only want your soul to find peace." His aquiline features were so impossibly beautiful that Bella was caught in a trance. Several seconds passed before she tore herself away from that feeling of captivation.

"And what about _your_ soul?" she asked meekly. Carlisle laughed then, a divine sound that warmed her from the inside out. God, she so wanted to taste him again, to feel the desire seep from his lips unto hers.

"What soul?" His smile was disarming but the sadness never once left his catlike eyes. She felt irrationally upset by this and pushed her chair back, pacing the room with the edgy irritation of a wild animal. She was possessed by a feral abandon. Carlisle _had_ a soul, why couldn't she make him understand that he, of all the vampires she had known, was most _certainly_ the one with a soul? "Please sit down, Bella," he pleaded.

She turned on him, savage and losing control, grasping his cool, smooth face in both hands. He masked his surprise, permitted her this outburst because he understood how explosive emotions born out of confusion could be. "How can you yearn for me, Carlisle? If you have no soul how can you _yearn_? Is it my blood?" His hands slipped over her bare arms, past her elbows and further still to rest over her own fingers. Bella could not suppress her reaction to his touch and this seemed to please him, yet he masked it quickly.

"I most certainly yearn for your blood," he admitted with a small nod. A strand of silvery blond hair fell across his forehead and she struggled with the desire to brush it aside. "You must realise, Bella..." he paused to look meaningfully into her eyes. "No matter how long you resist the smell of blood... the taste of it... like an addict you will _always_ be fighting against your natural instinct." He removed one hand from hers and reached up to cup her cheek, stroking the high curve of her bone with this thumb. "But my yearning right now is for something far more human." When his thumb brushed across her lower lip, lingering there, she inhaled an unsteady breath that he felt and one that drew his gaze away from her mouth to her eyes. "So very human..." he sighed, almost as an afterthought.

Bella's instincts ought to have been advising her to put space between herself and the utterly mesmerising vampire whose cold touch somehow managed to generate something so warm inside her. They advised her of something else, altogether. While her mind raced at just how _wrong_ it was, her heart simply didn't give a damn.

"These... feelings that you have for me..." she began with a ragged whisper. "Are they like lo-" A car door slammed and together they sprang apart, guilt etched into their features like a dirty mark. Bella's heart thundered as she heard the rattle of Charlie's keys in the lock. Carlisle stood, caressed her cheek for an all-too short moment and lowered his long lashes in thought.

"Tomorrow," he promised with a fleeting kiss to her forehead that left her tortured for more. As though he were nothing more than an apparition, Carlisle was gone and she stood alone in the kitchen with only his scent to convince her that she hadn't imagined it entirely. It was then that she noticed his heavy scarf draped over the back of the chair, thick chunky wool that would permeate his delicious smell. Bella reached for it, searching though the back door and into the darkness for any hint that he might be watching.

"Bells? What are you doing up?" Her father looked sick, his nose red and his eyes watery.

"Couldn't sleep. Why are you home so early?" With a self pitying sniffle, Charlie sank into the same chair that Carlisle had vacated only seconds before.

"I don't feel so great, Bella. It was a quiet night, so I came home." He didn't remark on the scarf in her hand, or the unfinished coffee on the table that would certainly not be a remedy to insomnia.

"Let me heat you some milk, then you should go to bed." Her father conceded easily and she sensed that he was appreciative, even wanting, of her help. Even if he would never ask for it outright. Although his hints were usually as subtle as a sledgehammer. "In fact you should go to bed now and I'll bring up the milk when it's ready." Charlie managed to smile at this.

"You're a great kid, Bells," he remarked as he departed from the kitchen, kicking off his boots as he did.

She stood in the empty room for a long moment, overwhelmed once more by her thoughts. With a heavy heart she brought the scarf to her nose and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs to capacity with the familiar yet indescribable scent. This alone aroused something erotic in her body and left her hungry for his hands on her – all over her. And his mouth... she wanted his mouth to taste every crevice of her body and know it as intimately as she did. Fire flamed against her cheeks and an insistent pulse thrummed between her thighs. She recognised it as arousal and it made her feel somewhere between demented and totally deranged.

Bella closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing normally. _Oh Carlisle..._ she thought, pained. _What have you done to me?_

_-End-_

I'm desperately searching the internet for some fanfiction in this pairing and it's so hard. Over 130,000 stories archived for Twilight and only 9 pages of Bella/Carlisle. I am also particularly fussy about what I read as I do enjoy the vampire/human dynamic so stories with Carlisle as human don't work for me, so much. Grr! This is what happens when you pick unlikely pairings, isn't it? Anyway, thank you all so much for reviewing this so far. It's the first time in a long time that I have been inspired to write so much and many people who read my Bones stories will be wondering why I can't find the muse to finish my unfinished stories there. But you gotta go where the inspiration strikes, right? Please do review, as those little emails make my day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Rating: **M rated. Pretty explicit stuff from here on out guys. Please note: here be lemons!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters mentioned herein. There is no infringement intended.

**Author's Note: **Another mention that this is Carlisle/Bella and if you don't enjoy this fandom then you won't enjoy this story!I found a great web-thingy on livejournal for Carlisle/Bella fics, called a fic-a-thon and although there aren't many archived yet, the ones I read were very good! Basically the idea is that you pick a word (from a whole bunch that the creator has chosen) and then write a CxB fic about that word. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this chapter and will let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

***

It was raining; a misty drizzle that infiltrated even the most waterproof clothes and seeped into her skin. She had stood next to her old truck for at least twenty minutes staring up at the house that provoked so many painful memories in her mind. So much heartache and so much torment had begun and ended inside those glass walls. It was in this house that Jasper had lost control of his reins and had tried to attack her. It was also within those walls that Carlisle had stitched the gaping wound in her arm, wrestling with his own desire for her blood. Wrestling with his own desire for _her_, simply.

His Mercedes was parked at the side of the house and although this was a certain indication that he was at home, she found that she was quite unable to find the courage to move forward. It had taken many attempts before she had skipped the last three afternoon classes at school to come here at all, and now that she stood before the home once inhibited by all the Cullens, she felt rigid with fear. Trepidation.

Trepidation mostly because she knew in her heart why she had come at all, even if she hadn't fully allowed herself to admit it. She hadn't sleep the night before. Her eyes had scanned the darkness in the vain hope that he might return to watch over her, but it seemed that the turn of events that had transpired last night had left Carlisle with a need to be alone. She feared that he might have tortured himself senseless in solitary reflection up in these mountains.

As the cold soaked into her bones, she trembled. The house was shrouded in misty clouds and drizzly rain as she gazed up at it. _Go home, Bella_. The voice had been nagging the back of her mind all day, intensifying when she had turned down a chance to visit Jacob in favour of coming here, alone, into the lair of a vampire. A hungry vampire – and not just for blood.

When she turned back towards her truck, deciding to flee for her sanity and her decency, she barely contained the startled cry of surprise that rose in her throat at the sight of Carlisle standing behind her – so close that his body radiated a chill against hers. How had she not noticed his approach? Had he looked this handsome last night?

"Hello, Bella." She smiled wanly and held his scarf out, as though offering him a gift. The thick multi-tonal wool in dark greens and muted browns had been held to her nose all night. She was sure the scent of him had been stripped from the material hours ago, and yet she still mourned the loss of it when he graciously accepted it. "You came all the way here to return my scarf?" he asked with a hint of amusement twinkling through the sobriety of his golden eyes. He was soaked, too, the pale blue shirt he wore pasted to every line and curve of his ropey muscles. Bella found that her breath didn't quite reach her lungs. Had she ever desired anyone as much as she did him?

"You know that's not why," she replied, harder than she intended. "Better than that, you know why I _am_ here." The amusement burned out and only the darkened lust remained in his irises. He looked as though he needed to hunt and Bella felt a delicious slither of anticipation in wondering, not without a hint of eroticism, whether she would be his prey. "Carlisle... I haven't been able to stop... thinking..." emotion caught in her throat; that relentless confusion and abhorrent guilt. "About you." He blinked slowly in response to this, his eyes lingering on her face for a second too long. His papery-white skin stretched across his knuckles as he clenched the scarf in his hand, bones only slightly paler than the flesh that covered them, almost visible.

A raindrop dripped off his arched prominent brow unto his cheek and Bella was fascinated by the trickle of water on his ivory skin – like a teardrop that he would never again cry. He looked human... as though his soul now existed in the same time and space that his physical being did. He wasn't the three-hundred year-old creature of supposed damnation, but a young man wrestling with something real and viable and difficult.

"And neither have I," he told her. "What are we doing, Bella?" The question struck a chord in her mind. Carlisle had always been the voice of reason. When her life had been threatened by James, it had been his logical thinking and clear headedness that had won through – that had organised the family and ensured her safety. When Jasper had lost his control on his bloodthirsty appetite it had been Carlisle who had attended to her, who had asked the family to leave the room – including Edward. She felt somehow panicked now that even he had ceased to have a handle on logic and sanity.

"Dancing around the inevitable."

There. She had said it – and it was the most courageous and terrifying words she had ever spoken. She was opening her heart to vulnerability, to being broken again by a fickle vampire with misguided conceptions. Like Edward.

_Edward left you_, she reminded herself firmly. _Carlisle came back_. Still, none of these insistences changed the fact that she could so easily end up back in the void. Empty and alone, praying for relief from her agony.

"Come inside, Bella." Strength had returned to his voice and the relief she felt was paramount. Carlisle would take the lead, as he always did and she would let him. In this instance – 'the inevitable' – she would have to permit him the lead because she was inexperienced and terrified by it.

She told herself not to think about the memories buried in the walls of the house. It looked different now, without mementos of the Cullen family in every corner. Some things remained, but there was an emptiness to the rooms. The wooden cross had gone from the bottom of the stairs and the cloying scent of a thousand flowers had been replaced by musty disuse. The grand piano, smashed to smithereens on her last visit to this house, had been disposed of and although the furniture remained in the living room, the space that was formerly occupied by its imposing greatness seemed vast.

Resting in the corner of the room a glossy cello took its place, the slender bow tilted against the glorious wooden body. She could somehow imagine Carlisle's slender fingers playing the strings and making incredible music, the swells rising and falling in the confines of the forlorn home. He would play deeply melancholy music, she believed. Feeding the hunger of his guilt and torment.

She became aware of the insistent dripping of their wet bodies on the resin floor and the fluttering of her heartbeat when his cold fingers slid into the collar of her coat and drew it down her shoulders.

"Come to my study... it's warmer there." Why it mattered to Carlisle how warm the house was, Bella did not know. Any amount of warmth would mean nothing to a man whose skin felt like ice, but without word or objection she followed him up the winding staircase and along the narrow hallway to the familiar door. Only a few steps away was Edward's former room – the placed filled with books and music, the glass door that led to nothing but a significant fall, unless you were a vampire who could leap unimaginable distances to the trees beyond.

It surprised her to realise that the sight of the closed door didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. The rawness was healing and Bella wasn't naive enough to believe if was anything other than Carlisle who had brought her back from the brink. That first night he had decided to sit in her room and watch over her and all the nights that followed until she had turned on her lamp and found him there had been the brewing of a tonic that had soothed her tender soul.

His study hadn't changed; the same books and photographs and paintings, candle sticks and fire-place with the heavy oak desk and papers stacked neatly and organised. It hinted that Carlisle had always anticipated his return, even if his family opted to stay... wherever they were.

Healthy flames licked the hearth and filled the room with an oppressive warmth that stifled the damp coldness outside. Perhaps Carlisle found comfort in the crackling of the coals as they burned, or the pleasant glow that broke through the unfathomable darkness of the surrounding forest at night time. _How lonely he must be up here after so many years in company_.

"Do sit by the fire," he encouraged as he unbuttoned the shirt he wore. Bella's mouth went dry at the sight of him, ivory pale and glorious – like a sleek Italian sculpture – with taut muscles that flexed when he twisted to slip the shirt off entirely. His slim hips and tight abdominals were refined with the sort of perfection that only a non-human could possess. Turning his back toward her, Bella's eyes trailed along the delicate curve of his spine, the subtle indentation and up again to the broad sweep of his hard shoulders. His silvery damp hair curled at the nape of his neck and she fought with the near overwhelming desire to press her lips against the smooth, exposed flesh in all its glory. "I will get you a towel," he was saying.

"No..." her voice croaked and he turned, surprised. Between her thighs the pulsating throb had returned and she felt lightheaded at the strength of her own desire. "Just come here, Carlisle." His lips tightened to a thin line – internal debating and insecurity – before he tossed the soaked shirt aside and crossed the study to stand before her, where she knelt on the shag rug in front of the fire. His navel, and the baby-fine blond hairs there, were positioned before her ravenous eyes and she experienced the same lustful desire that had crazed her the night before. When her fingertips brushed over the hills and valleys of his muscles, Carlisle sucked a warning breath into his lungs that tightened his stomach further. Bella was sure that her mouth was actually watering now – hungry... ravenous, in fact.

She toyed with his belt buckle, taking her time for fear of the moment passing too fast. How much she wanted every second of this experience to be burned into her memory for eternity and then beyond. A ragged growl rose in his chest when her wrist brushed against his erection which strained within the confines of his smart wool pants. "Don't torment me, Bella..." he begged in a breathy whisper. "You can't understand how many times I have..." His long lashes fluttered and the golden honey of his eyes darkened when she boldly cupped his shaft in her hand. "Oh... _God_..." his fingers wrapped around her arms , digging into her flesh with enough force to hurt _and_ bruise.

Bella fumbled awkwardly with his belt, undoing the buckle after two attempts while he gazed down at her with something that went beyond mere carnal desire glinting in his eye. Tenderly, he tucked a strand of saturated hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek, smoothing his thumb across her brow. "I'm sorry..." she apologised weakly, a fiery blush rising to her cheeks. "I've never done anything like this before..." Carlisle tipped her chin, urging her to meet his eyes despite her obvious reluctance.

"You don't have to do anything to impress me, Bella," he promised her with a watery edge to his tone. The blush deepened. "How can you trust that I won't lose control with you?" he asked and she closed her eyes, picturing how that scenario might play out. Wild frenzy, biting, pain, euphoria, unattainable oneness with a person who evoked such inhibition in her.

"I don't care if you do," she admitted truthfully and Carlisle seemed to find this desirable, for he growled, low and feral before sinking to his knees and capturing her lips in a hard, angry kiss. Bella moaned against his cold mouth, his buckle forgotten as her arms wound around his neck and her fingers into the spun-silk softness of his hair. Her body arched towards him and his strong hands captured her buttocks firmly, hefting her closer, plastering their bodies together as though he endeavoured to join them entirely.

"Are you going to make love to me, Carlisle?" she murmured against his lips as his tongue so expertly caressed the edges of her mouth, eliciting a shuddering moan of pleasure from deep in her throat. His fingers kneaded her flesh while his erection pressed firmly between her thighs. Her heart thumped with involuntary palpitations when his tongue met hers... how good he tasted.

"Yes," he sighed with that slightly lilting accent that seemed to arise when during times of great emotion. "I'm going to make love to you, Bella." They crumpled together on the rug, mouths tasting and tongues exploring to the symphony of muted sighs and pleasured moans. His slender fingers flicked each pearly button on her old flannel shirt with such painstaking slowness that Bella thought she might lose control of her patience. When he parted the folds, leaning back to admire her exposed flesh through hazy golden eyes, she wished she owned bras more alluring than the simple white lace that she had donned that morning. A vixen she was not, but Carlisle seemed not to care as he lowered his mouth to the swell of her breast, peppering cold kisses to her soft flesh. A tremor took control of her body at the sensation and her nipples hardened at once, despite the warmth of the fire to her right.

She stroked his hair, the hard and strong angles of his face while breathlessly anticipating the moment when his wet lips would nudge aside the scrap of lace and take her pebbled nipple into his mouth. He was adept at the art of sweet torture, for Carlisle seemed to relish her pleas and the wriggling of her body. Spreading his fingers across her flat, soft belly he held her firmly against the floor, wincing against the curve of her breast when she tugged hard at the strands of hair clutched between her fingers.

"Play nice, sweet Bella," he murmured against her breast, nipping the sensitive skin enticingly between his teeth. His tongue stroked the inflicted spot and her hips rose, her arousal peaking before he had truly touched her. Bella mewled when he laved at her painfully tight nipple through the lace, the fabric only adding to the sensory overload. When his fingers edged the cup of her bra aside and his mouth enveloped the tender bud in a hard, urgent suckle, it took very ounce of her restraint not to cry out. _Nothing_ had ever felt this good, of that she was certain.

Reaching between their bodies, her fingers, with surprising dexterity, located his zipper without difficulty. Carlisle froze, his mouth pressed against her breast as she slipped her fingers into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his impressive shaft. A prickle of apprehension invaded the passion-fogged frenzy of her mind; would she be able to accommodate him? How badly would it hurt?

He bucked into her hand, snapping her reverie and suddenly her concerns didn't matter. Slowly at first, she slid her hand over the length of him to where a cool drop of pearly arousal had formed at the smooth tip. Releasing her breast, Carlisle groaned... a sound that she had never heard before. _I arouse him_... she thought with growing satisfaction. Somehow it made the fire in her belly cultivate in knowing that the rigidness between her fingers was directly attributable to her.

She wished to see him in naked glory; the entirety of his godlike form. He seemed to understand this and helped her to remove the remainder of his clothes while she drank his beauty into her mind. Crisp blond hair, thick thighs, taut muscles and wiry strength... and he wanted her. She trembled visibly as he knelt before her, tensing when her fingers inched their way along his thigh.

His own fingers unbuttoned her jeans, easing the denim and her underwear over her thighs before relieving her of the lacy bra that she had been so wholly unimpressed with. It didn't matter now that she was entirely naked before him, exposed emotionally and physically as she never had been before. The lust in his eyes increased tenfold as he trailed his long fingers over her abdomen to the wiry curls at the apex of her thighs. When his gaze finally returned to her face, Carlisle looked as though he'd found redemption.

"Bella..." he sighed with bated breath, "you are exquisite." Her fingers wrapped around him again and his head fell back, a pained groan forming on his lips. "And I think you just discovered a new way to kill a vampire... oh please... Bella." She wanted to taste him, to feel the silky hardness between her lips and inside her mouth but she sensed an urgency between them that wouldn't permit such languid exploration. _Another time_, she promised herself.

"I need to feel you..."she whispered. "Please." The meaning of her plea was understood and he knelt over her, gently nudging apart her thighs and inhaling the scent of her arousal. She flushed with embarrassment as he looked down at her, at the glistening moisture on her skin and the evidence of just how much she desired him. His thumb reached down to gently circle the impossibly sensitive nub between her legs and she cried out, an unexpected sound that was strangled and needy. Carlisle smiled at this, his fingers slipping between her slick folds to explore the molten warmth. Bella stiffened as he eased two fingers inside her body, her walls offering resistance against the intrusion.

"You're so tight..." he murmured approvingly. She blushed hotly.

"I know... I've never..." Carlisle nodded, stroking her hair gently, soothingly, comfortingly.

"And so wet, Bella..." these words were spoken in gravelly tones that conveyed the depth of his awe. Her insides quivered, soaking his fingers. Her breathing was unsteady, her heartbeat thundering a wild staccato in her chest.

"It's you... I can't help it..." Tears prickled the corner of her eyes, tender emotion washing over her as Carlisle removed his fingers and slid forward, nudging her opening with the tip of his thick shaft.

"No... you mustn't help it, Bella. It's divine... perfect." She was tense when his hips thrust forward gently, stretching her wider than she imagined it were possible. "Don't be afraid... I won't hurt you. Tell me that you want this... promise me." A single tear escaped her eye and rolled along her temple.

"I promise you that I want this. I need it... please..." Oddly she felt no pain as he moved slowly until he was buried inside her body, ensconced by her warm, wet walls. For what felt like an eternity they lay like this, immobile, familiarising themselves with the sensation of the other's body. He hard and cold, she soft and warm. Perfect opposites, conjoined by desire, passion and necessity.

He took her hand and placed her fingertips on the slick bud between them. "Touch yourself..." he urged against her ear, pressing a kiss against her temple where the tear had escaped, leaving a salty trail. She sighed when his hips slid back, then forward, burying himself inside her once more. Obeying his command she traced gentle circles across her clitoris, following the lead of his rhythm, increasing the pace only under the guidance of his thrusting hips.

Nothing had felt so good as having him inside her, claiming her body as his own. She offered her throat to his mouth, her pace quickening to match the growing frenzy of his. His teeth nibbled torturously at her neck, his tongue laving her throat as he toyed with his self control. "Bite me..." she commanded, a coiling warmth increasing in her belly. The tight circling of her fingers sparkled the embers of her desire while his hard, fulfilling thrusts into the depths of her body made her certain that she couldn't control the growing orgasm that built inside her womb.

"I can't..." he murmured, pained. "I'll lose control, Bella... I'll... hurt you." _Kill her, possibly. The taste of her blood could send him into a crazed fury that only draining her would cure. _She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him as far into her as possible.

"Please... just a little..." His teeth pressed harder against the fleshy tissue of her neck, his tongue touching her thundering pulse, her delicious scent filling his nose. The harder he pressed, the more attainable her orgasm was. She felt the wrought tension in the muscles of his back, her nails digging urgently into the hard flesh, a harsh moan rising in her gut at his furious thrusts. "A little more..." Why she wanted him to bite her, Bella did not understand. The pure eroticism of having him claim her entirely, perhaps. She wasn't afraid of death, or the danger of an out-of-control vampire.

"I _can't_," he insisted, entirely agonised by her demands, his voice muffled against her throat. She sensed that he too bordered on the verge of ecstasy, his thrusts faster and harder, almost hurting. _Almost. _

"_Now_!" she cried and despite his reservations, Carlisle complied, sinking his teeth into her neck while her orgasm rocked through her body, claiming her in its fiery, blinding grasp. She cried out, her eyes flying open to witness not the ceiling above her head, but flecks of bright white and things she couldn't fathom. Her muscles tightened and trembled, contracted around his shaft as he pumped feebly into her thrice more, spilling his cold, sticky seed inside her.

"Oh my lovely Bella... Bella... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he breathed against the circular mark he'd left on her throat. Slumped on top of her, riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm, he might have sobbed had be been capable of it. Her arms folded around him, hands sinking into his hair as she soothed him. "Forgive me..." His lips brushed the raw mark, over and over as though the gesture might heal her.

"Shush..." she sighed, her limbs as loose and weak as spaghetti. "It was perfect... you did it just right." _Just perfect. _The pain she felt, between her legs, on her neck, were deliciously satisfying and although she had no point of reference, Bella didn't believe that making love could have been any better. "I wish you were capable of sleeping..." she murmured groggily against his hair. He lifted his head, shifting to remove himself from inside of her while cradling her in the nook of his arm. She settled there, wondering at how perfectly they seemed to fit. How she had tried to ignore it for too long and now... now there seemed little point.

"Lying here with you is the closest I have got to humanity in three centuries, Bella. Please don't worry about me... you sleep now." Outside the rain was heavier, pelting against the window relentlessly while beside her the fire crackled merrily. She shifted closer, burying her nose in the hard lines of his chest.

"I'm stained by you..." she whispered, only half awake. "I can smell you... on me." He smiled against her forehead, pressing a tender kiss there. "Don't leave me, Carlisle..." The happiness in his soul was vacuumed into a black void and his smile faded, his arms tightening instinctively around her slender, vulnerable body.

"Never, my Bella..." he promised. Her breathing slowed and she slept.

-End-

There's two ways this can go, leave it here or continue with Edward arriving to discover that 'his' Bella had been claimed by (in my opinion) an altogether more suitable companion. Please do let me know and _please_ tell me if you enjoyed this as it is now 1am and I have worked so hard at creating what I hoped was a sensual scene between Bella and Carlisle.

Thanks for reading! Goodnight! Pereybere x


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Rating: **This story as a whole is rated M.

**Disclaimer: **The characters mentioned herein do not belong to me and there is no infringement intended.

**Author's Note: **I expect this drabble will soon come to an end, although I do intend to write more Bella/Carlisle fanfictions. Just another thanks to everyone who has continued to read this and for the kind reviewers who took the time to click the button. It always encourages me to know that the mindless words I write are enjoyed! :)

***

She slept on the rug by the fire like a kitten, draped in a heavy wool blanket that he'd salvaged from the laundry cupboard down the corridor. Despite protesting his departure with a sleepy whimper, she had been lulled back into slumber by the fizzling warmth of the fire, her soft skin basking in the heat.

He had pulled his pants on without enthusiasm, loathe to detach himself from her softness. The centuries had been long, filled with wonder and enchantment, difficulties and challenges and Carlisle was certain that nothing had captured his interest, or his heart, with quite so much ferocity as Bella Swan. Hours had passed and he had merely sat beside her, watching... fascinated by how her body moved when she breathed, how her slender fingers stretched across the rug as though she were searching for something in her sleep, by the contented murmurs that formed on her slightly parted lips. Sleep, and the human body's ability to achieve it, enthralled him like it never had before.

He wrestled with the desire to withdraw the blanket from her and indulge his longing to see her naked, again. How ethereal she truly was; a vision before him. Real, living, breathing. Human. The word fascinated him, he said it in his mind in a dozen languages simply because the thought it was probably the most underused word in history. He looked human, even to himself as he stretched out his hands and examined them. But of that he had ceased to be, in the truest sense of the word, a very long time before.

When she stretched with a mewling sigh he caught sight of the angry red welt on her neck where his teeth had sank into the tender flesh and he blanched. _You're a monster_, his mind insisted fiercely. _You marked her_. She was like delicate porcelain, unblemished and pure. Until he had devoured her, until he had lost control. He had regretted it almost at once, regretted it more because the intensity of biting her had trebled the force of his release into her. In the split-second of pure abandon, in which anything could have happened, he had deeply, overwhelmingly enjoyed possessing her.

Leaning forward he rested his forearms on his knees, unable to draw his eyes away from the circular mark inflicted by the pressure of his teeth. _What if you had tasted blood? _His conscience roared, drawing a pained wince from his lips. _Three hundred years of restraint to murder the one girl you have fallen for? _Pulling his fingers through his unruly hair, Carlisle forced himself to look away, afraid that his lamenting might turn to torturous hours spent berating himself.

She purred, drawing the blanket tight to her bare chest as her dark eyes fluttered open to peer unseeingly at the ceiling for a long moment. Another captivating moment that humans so rarely appreciated; that unsure moment between reality and dreams when the mind did not fully comprehend its place. He could watch these glimpses of humanity for an eternity for they were but all too fleeting.

"Welcome back," he said, realising that his voice was gruff with emotion. Her dark head turned toward him, the sight of him watching over her igniting a glint in her lovely eyes. With a languid smile, she extended her hand towards him sheepishly, inviting him back into the welcoming warmth of her embrace. He was euphoric in noticing that there was no regret in her gaze for he had been afraid that she might wake up, plagued by remorse and guilt.

"What have you been doing all this time?" she asked when he sank to the floor and into her arms. The chill of his skin made her shiver, yet she didn't appear to be bothered by it.

"Watching you..." he admitted, his hand slipping beneath the blanket to caress her flesh. He could recall her taste so vividly that already he felt a stirring in his groin at the memory. "You don't frown in your sleep... I noticed that." His hand moved to her face, smoothing the lines on her forehead until she relaxed. "That's better." Her breath was hot against his skin, shallow as her heart began to race at the insinuations beneath his lingering touch. Bella pressed her fingertips to his mouth, a small gesture filled with intimacy and familiarity. His tongue dared to taste her and within mere moments she was kissing him, as though desperately unable to control the lust she felt. He smiled against her lips, drawing her naked body to him, tensing when her small pink nipples brushed his chest. "You will be the undoing of me, Bella," he whispered against her lips.

She lay over him, the tender softness of her belly pressed against his already rigid arousal and although he knew that he could easily make love to her the entire night through, Carlisle restrained himself. Even if she did feel like heaven in his arms, even if her lithe body – so supple and enticing – beckoned his touch.

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around," she reasoned. "You with your irresistible vampiric allure." Her mouth suckled his lower lip, loosening his already weakened grasp on his self-control. "And you are rather magnificent." He tasted her tongue, willing himself to be calm despite the roaring fire in his groin. Even through his pants, the hot place between her thighs radiated against his skin and he felt burned by her... scorched by the insatiable need. "Aren't vampires supposed to be seductive, erotic creatures?" He grasped her chin, breaking their kiss at her suggestive words. Did she believe that he had ensnared her by using some supernatural technique? That her actions were not truly her own?

"I didn't return to Forks to seduce you, Bella," he insisted firmly. "I don't deny that I have coveted you for a long time-" she reclined back further to inspect his eyes, her gaze fluttering across him like an agitated butterfly.

"How long?" she asked, drawing idle but very distracting circles on his clavicle. Her touch was like a fuel that fanned the embers of his libido. A shy smile toyed at her lips affording her a breathtakingly unassuming beauty. Bella's own insecurities were highly attractive... she still didn't truly understand what she did to him. Could she ever?

"You want a specific time?" he asked, incredulous. A lowly hum rumbled through her chest.

"Do you have one?" Her brows arched skyward, eyes glinting mischievously in the fading firelight. Her loveliness was empyreal, capturing his heart with such intensity that it startled him. He touched her cheek, revelling in the velvet softness and his attentions did not go unnoticed... in fact, he could mentally count how many seconds it would take for the blood to stain her cushioned cheekbones. Three...two...one... he grinned as, on cue, warmth flooded her face. "Carlisle..." she sighed, burrowing her nose beneath his chin.

"How could I not know the exact moment, Bella?" She titled her head, curious now. How could he admit that he had lusted after her, day-dreamed about her even, when she had been in the arms of his adoptive son? How cunning might he seem, then? As though he had skilfully manipulated her into _his_ arms. Into becoming his lover. "You must understand..." he began, his attentions drawn to the bluish mark on her neck again. _You savage_. Yet despite it, the memory of his euphoria remerged. "I never intended for this to happen. I only wanted to ensure your safety... your _sanity_." A flicker of pain crossed her expression then – a deeply rooted melancholy that she was unable to hide. "But that's not to say that I haven't _wanted_ you since..."

"Since?" she prompted, her fingers moving again. Bella, he was beginning to learn, had far more emotional strength than he had initially given her credit for. The sadness had been hidden, filed away in a compartment of her mind that she kept under lock and key.

"You'll think it moronic, Bella. I believe you have little time for romantic notions or grand gestures or feelings of delusion." She grinned at this, her bare shoulder inching upward in an unselfconscious shrug. "You were in the kitchen downstairs, making some revolting herbal tea concoction and you were alone..." he lost himself in the memory of his own helpless enchantment. She had drawn him like a moth to flame, and God almighty, he had allowed himself to get burned. Over and over again. "You were humming Palladio Allegretto to yourself, swinging your arms as though you were conducting an orchestra and you were so involved in your own thoughts, it was captivating. And then you swung your arm out and swept a vase of Vandella roses off the counter." He winced at the memory of hand–carved Irish crystal shattering to oblivion and Bella screwed her eyes shut.

"Oh God..." She slapped her hand against her head, recalling the incident with all too humiliating clarity. "And _that_ made you want me?" He kissed her nose, a lingering touch that filled them both with intimate contentment.

"Well, no. I suppose I truly wanted you from the moment you stepped into my hospital with worryingly persistent concerns about paranormal activities. It was in the kitchen that day when I realised that I loved you, which is entirely different to mere wanting." Her brows drew together in thought as she lowered her cheek to his chest, silence stretching between them as Bella took her time contemplating this admission.

"Carlisle?" she said at last, her finger circling his cool, flat nipple.

"Hmm?" Fighting fire with fire, he swept his fingers over her spine, ghosting across her skin and satisfied when she physically trembled.

"You'd be surprised how much I enjoy romantic notions, grand gestures and feelings of delusion." He smiled broadly against the crown of her head, his arms tightening instinctively around her.

"Is that so?" he trilled and she nodded in the affirmative.

"Yes. Like myself, for example. I am living under the delusion that there might be food in this vampire's lair and that my stomach won't have to eat itself." She made him laugh. Properly laugh, with honest joy in his heart. His memory harboured not one image of the violent atrocities his eyes had been privy to in his existence. The world was, in that moment, a utopia that could not have been further perfected by the hands of the gods themselves.

"Oh Bella..." he chuckled deeply. "You mustn't underestimate the eternal wisdom of the vampire. Especially when said vampire is three hundred years old and has learned to prepare for almost any inevitability." Detaching himself from her, Carlisle stood and smiled down at her, pleased at the surprise she made no effort to mask. "I've heard I make omelettes to _die_ for." Bella rose, clutching the blanket around her naked breasts.

"In that case," she breathed, "take me now."

-End-

Thanks for reading and don't forget to hit that little review button guys! Reviews feed my muse!


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer: **The characters mentioned herein do not belong to me. There is no infringement intended.

**Author's Note: **So, here's how my day as gone so far: In a hurry this morning, I purchased the New Moon score after reading on the internet that _Wanderers Nachitlied_ (the song played in Carlisle's study as he is attending to Bella) was on it. I get home, new prized possession in hand, only to discover that I was incorrectly informed! Wahh! So, if you want to cheer me up, review! (Emotional blackmail to my readers?) Oh! Today I was picking up the mail and a letter had been delivered to my address by mistake... for a Mrs. Carlisle! Funny coincidence, huh? Thanks for reading and I really do appreciate the kind words of encouragement that you have been sending my way!

***** **

"Good?" He had been watching her eat with the same beguiled fascination with which he had watched her sleep. Her self consciousness wore off quickly under the temptation of the omelette he had skilfully prepared for her.

"Great," she enthused through a mouthful. "But don't get too egotistical about it. I was so hungry that I might have ate you." His eyes glinted like stones of polished gold at these words.

"I might _still_ eat you." She blushed from the top of her head all the way to where her skin was covered by the blanket wrapped around her. "Delectable as you are." Bella smiled self consciously, avoiding his eye. "Tell me something, Bella?" She seemed to like it when he said her name because it wasn't the first instance in which he had noticed the subtle tensing of her body. "You wanted me to bite you... why?" Self consciously, she touched her open hand to her neck and he wondered if he saw embarrassment in her eyes. Embarrassment for losing control, maybe? Carlisle knew his mind would be forever consumed by how she looked beneath him, vocalising her pleasure at his touch with such abandon. _Please don't regret that, Bella..._

"You'll think it's silly..." she sighed, pushing the empty plate away.

"I'm doubt it." Carlisle insisted with a private smile. Each word she spoke, however trivial, seemed to bear profound meaning for him. Had she read to him the details off the egg box, Carlisle was certain that he'd have listened, enraptured, as though she were offering him the secrets to the universe.

"It's about trust." Her slender shoulder rose in an 'it's simple' shrug. "About control, and relinquishing it." She looked at him then, a thousand accumulating desires evident in the brown pools. He pretended not to understand the implications in her words because he desperately wanted to hear her say it aloud. His eyes were dark and lusty as he watched her intently – not responding in the hopes that his prolonged silence would urge her on. It did. "In that moment... when you bite me, we're both losing control, aren't we? Me, because I don't know whether you will snap and I have to trust with all my heart that you won't and you because you're fighting against a powerful natural instinct. It's... _sexy_." She whispered the last word, as though it were forbidden.

Carlisle smiled broadly, a disarming grin that many nurses had confided during his tenure as a doctor, was irresistible. He was relying on it being true, now.

"Was it hard?" she asked, failing to notice that the blanket had slipped, exposing the curvy side of her breast. Like a magnet, positive to negative, Carlisle couldn't resist glimpsing it. She mistook his silence for confusion. "Biting me, I mean. Was it hard to keep your instincts in check?" That delectable, endearing blush had returned to her cheeks.

"You cannot imagine," he confided with a lowly growl. "You have no idea how tender the epidermis is, Bella. You probably shouldn't comprehend, in fact, how close my teeth were to your blood." His mind replayed the scene in his head, picturing the ultimate satisfaction of tasting her. He felt his pupils dilate and could picture the blackness of his eyes as he peered at her from across the countertop. "When you blush, I can smell it. Like opium to my senses... every second I sit before you is a test to my tenacity. I'm like a nymphomaniac before eroticism or an alcoholic before whiskey," he swallowed the urgency of his addiction to her. "But Bella, you must understand... you're not a mere belly-dance... you're the ultimate goddess of everything sensual and erotic in this world. You're not simply a glass of Jack Daniels but a 20-year-old, triple-distilled malt whiskey that slips down the throat like velvet..." He sighed heavily, lost in the fantasy. When her warm hand rested on his, he was jolted back to the present and faced with new, ardent temptations.

Her skin almost shimmered with iridescence in the muted overhead light and Carlisle felt himself harden, insatiably aroused by her. As a human and as a vampire, his libido had never been so unquenchable.

"That's pretty intense..." Bella murmured thoughtfully. "And flattering, I think. A twenty year old malt whiskey...?" Carlisle felt himself grin at her self-deprecation.

"A twenty year old _triple distilled_ malt whiskey," he insisted and laughed when she petulantly poked her tongue out. "God, Bella..." he knotted their fingers together on the counter, packed with emotions that confused him. "How I wish I'd had you for all these centuries. The French Revolution and two world wars would have been easier to watch through the eyes of immortality, if you had been there to pull a face, or break a vase or say something so inappropriate." He heard the melancholy in his voice for all the lost years and closed his eyes momentarily, pushing aside the regret that he felt.

She leaned across the counter, her hand reaching to cup his cold cheek. Her lips followed, pressing tantalizingly against his and he demonstrated no restraint in kissing her back, deeply and longingly, as though the sheer taste of her could somehow fix him. Cupping the back of her head, Carlisle devoured her mouth, suckling on her lower lip until the flesh was plump and red. Gathering her close, with no consideration for the tableware, he knotted her tousled hair around his fingers and prepared himself for the predictable rush of molten awakening in his groin.

"Hmm..." he mumbled approvingly. "Definitely the connoisseur's choice." She was on him, astride him, his erection pressed against the moist apex of her thighs and Bella made no effort to protect her modesty with the blanket, now. The woollen folds fell open, exposing her small, firm breasts to his roving hands and he delighted in the hardness of her nipples and the lowly hiss that she offered when his fingertips brushed them teasingly. Whether he was teasing Bella or himself, Carlisle wasn't quite sure.

Her thighs tightened around his hips and her spine arched, indicating that she wouldn't relish the idea of waiting until they returned to the study before making love again. As he kissed her, Carlisle cast a sideward glance at the picture window and the abyss beyond. The forestry was thick and logically he doubted there was any chance of them being caught by some eagle-eyed voyeur but still he wondered and then he realised that the notion was oddly arousing. He surrendered himself to his lust, turning his eyes away from the window to the vision of magnificence in his arms. Her small, wandering hands were distracting as they smoothed paths across his marble skin, trailing and touching with such exquisite grace and underlying intention that he almost wished it would go on forever. Amazing how easy it had been to acquaintance himself with Bella's touch.

Her fingertips danced like flighty ballerinas across his shoulders, flattened over the plains of his chest and lowered to his belly where – although it ought to have been wholly impossible – butterflies of delicious anticipation fluttered with careless delight. "You could easily kill me, Isabella. Thirty four decades and I have never been so gluttonous for sex." His mouth lingered on her bare shoulder, tasting the salty remnants of perspiration from their earlier exertions.

"No one calls me Isabella," she rolled her slim hips against him, the friction all but unbearable. He noticed that she wasn't using the same despairing tone of admonishment that she had when he had first met her in the hospital.

"Make an exception." His tongue caressed her throat, his hands roaming her curves in desperate memorisation. Tomorrow was Saturday and then, he promised himself, he would spend an entire day making love to her – showing her how attentive he could be. How thoroughly he would satisfy her.

"Such bossiness, I'm not sure it suits you." He grinned at her, his eyes glinting like those of an untamed animal. Thrusting his hips upward, the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her soft centre, warning her how bossy and indeed, instinctual, he could be. Few people had ever witnessed the fiery core beneath the collected facade of Dr Carlisle Cullen and it gratified him that Bella, _his_ Bella, could see it.

Presently, his instincts were to immerse himself as deep as possible into her body, _as soon_ as possible. Her notions didn't seem to differ much from his, for she made quick, seemingly practiced work of his pants and with minimal disruption to their kiss he too was naked, his arousal pressed insistently against her thigh.

"Are you going to bite me again?" she asked, shifting her weight to position the wet centre of herself against his shaft. Carlisle's chest hitched achingly at the growing warmth on his skin. Her nimble fingers had curled around the length of him, guiding him with insistence towards her opening. Already he felt the unfurling heat in his groin – that urgency for release.

"I don't think we should test my ability to abstain twice in one day, do you?" She smiled, rolling boldly against him until the smooth tip of him had slipped into her, stretching, making him crave more. He could smell her, a combination of wanton arousal and sumptuous blood and something uniquely Bella and he wasn't sure he _could_ abstain. With a hard thrust, he was inside her. The small whimper she offered him, courtesy of his intrusion, was curiously pleasing. She leaned back, supported by the bracket of his arms around her and he watched her with fascinated awe, rolling her hips, taking control, seizing what she so desired without self-consciousness. Her breasts swayed to the rhythm of her body, dusky rose nipples straining like delicious morsels that were begging for the attention of his mouth, of his tongue.

Warm hands braced on his shoulder, Bella displayed to him a boldness in her character that he had not yet been privy to, and the effects on his sexual appetite were astounding. His fingers kneaded her flesh, firm enough, he was sure, to bruise. A fleeting worry crossed his mind; how might she explain away her sudden injuries to those around her? Was he truly so savage? But when she moved faster, taking him deeper into her silken warmth, Carlisle's mind wandered in a different direction.

Bending his head forward, he drew the peak of her supple breast into his mouth, pressing his lips together around the taut bud. Bella offered a murmur of deep, guttural encouragement and he obliged her demand, sweeping the cold flat of his tongue across her nipple, his thumb flicking the other.

"Carlisle..." her voice was raspy. "I never knew it could _be_... like this." Her walls fluttered around the length of his cock, as soft as melting butter. With each pronounced thrust of her hips the swollen bud of her clitoris brushed his pubic bone and their skin was slickened by the evidence of her arousal. Her words touched him for he too had never known such rapture in love-making.

She spread her thighs wider still, angling her pelvis until Carlisle was positive he couldn't be deeper in her little body. His belly tightened and when he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in a polished steel bowl on the countertop he saw that his eyes were as black as onyx, glinting magnificently. When Bella's limbs stiffened – a certain indication of her orgasm being within reach – he felt the same stirrings in himself.

"Look at me," he insisted. _See what you turn me into... what I become with you_. She obeyed, hearing a certain dominance in his commandeering tone. Her lips parted and she exhaled a noisy whimper, her arms looping around his neck to support her trembling frame as she quivered under the force of her shattering orgasm. The clenching of her womb around his shaft sent his composure to the cliff's end and the smallest thrust into her cushiony warmth tossed him into the abyss. Incredible yearning and passion spurted from him into her and she readily accepted his seed, her body seeming to milk him.

She was still looking at him when he withdrew from her, watching as his black eyes lightened to the familiar goldenrod that symbolised contentment. He was sure that he would soon need to hunt, for his thirst was inconceivable.

"What did you put in those eggs?" she joked, scooping the blanket from the floor. He tucked a strand of errant hair behind her ear; the gesture fruitless because her luscious mane was a mass of unruly tangles.

"Nothing," he smiled. "I can assure you, that was just you. And me. Us." He would never have believed he possessed such consuming urges. She beamed. "You'd better call Charlie, it's getting late. Tell him you're staying at your friend's." This seemed to please her. "In fact, tell him you're staying the weekend. I have plans for you..."

This seemed to please her even more.

-End-

A weekend in bed with Carlisle Cullen? Do we likey? Please review! Thanks for reading! x


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: **Savour in the Night

**Disclaimer: **The characters mentioned herein do not belong to me. There is no infringement intended.

**Rating: **Overall, this story is M rated.

**Author's Note: **Does it get repetitive for you that I start almost every A/N with a thank you for reviews on the previous chapter(s)? I hope not, because I do want to convey sincerest thanks to everyone who has taken the time to send me comments about this story. Not just for this story, but in fact the other Twilight stories that I have written, too. Truthfully, I didn't intend for this story to run on quite so long, and as each chapter finishes I seem to have an idea for the next and the encouragement from you guys has been great. Thank you!

***

"Bella?"

Until his lilting voice had broken through the groggy cloud under which she settled, Bella had not been aware of herself drifting to sleep in his arms. The rain, still unrelenting, slanted against the window in a noisy assault while the study had become a warming refuge. With her cheek against his chest, she made a noise somewhere in the bottom of her throat to indicate that she had heard him address her.

"If happiness were a colour, what would it be?" His cool fingertips brushed over her bare arm in a soothingly repetitive motion. A moment passed while she contemplated his curious question. It had to be at least two am, she thought. Two am and Carlisle was assigning colours to emotions? Was this how vampires passed the time? "Bella?"

"I'm thinking," she mumbled against his stony skin.

"I would say I haven't got an eternity to wait, but as it happens, I do. So take your time." Despite the lethargy of her senses, Bella smiled against him. How, in the space of a few days had she ended up here, in his arms? From the emotional wreckage left in Edward's wake to something so profoundly _right_ that it baffled her. To say she didn't still ache when she thought about Edward would have been a lie. Love, she believed, didn't need time to blossom – merely a moment. It took much longer for it to wilt away, however. One simply didn't wake up in the morning and decide that the truest, purest love in their life no longer existed. What she had realised, though, was that it was possible to love more than once in a lifetime.

"Green," she said at last. The idly brushes along her arm came to a halt.

"Why green?" Carlisle asked. She wondered if he had expected her to say something overly girlish like _pink_ and then realised he knew her too well to make such an inaccurate assumption about her character.

"Happiness comes in many shades and so does green." When his body angled towards her, his awesome scent filled her nose, sending her senses into a frenzy. Part of her wondered if it was simply his vampiric talents or whether it was something uniquely Carlisle. Something that only _he_ could achieve in her.

"So does blue," he countered logically. Bella lifted her head now and the sight of him, reclined back against on the rug, bare-chested, his arm flung behind his head, left her feeling as though the air she breathed didn't quite make it into her lungs. His marvellous beauty confounded her.

"Yes, but I don't have a full grasp of my faculties. Unlike _you_ my mind does have to shut off, sometimes." He smiled impishly at her and with silvery strands of unruly blond hair sweeping across his forehead, he suddenly looked young. The hand previously caressing her arm slipped beneath the blanket slung across her and audaciously grasped bottom. When she whimpered, half with surprise and half with arousal, Carlisle's smile broadened to a satisfied Cheshire Cat grin.

"Seems to me like some of your faculties never get tired," he teased and she closed her eyes, summoning resolve and composure. "Green... that's an interesting choice. Most would probably pick yellow." She lowered her head again, distinctly aware of his hardness beneath the thigh she'd thrown across his. Even though she was exhausted, physically and emotionally, Carlisle was right in his insinuation that her body never tired of him.

They lapsed into silence, Bella consumed by her own thoughts. Thoughts of the first time she had saw Carlisle as more than just the patriarch of the Cullen family. The memory of it had often left her with ambient feelings of guilt for she had been distinctly aware that the needles in her stomach weren't ordinary. Perhaps because she had been so completely in love with Edward she had been able to push the thought of it away. Although, she realised, she had never truly succeeded.

Her birthday, the study they presently lay in... Carlisle sewing neat stitches into her wounded arm with such precise pricks and unyielding control. His golden eyes focused intently on the task and her arm had rested against his hard body, her own body distinctly aware of him. Had it been less than a year ago? It felt like an age had passed since then. An age since that moment when Carlisle had lifted his head from his ministrations and had looked into her eyes as though so urgently wishing to convey something. When he had looked away she'd been oddly morose.

"Carlisle?"

"Yes, Bella?" He withdrew his arm from behind his head, lowering his hand to soothingly stroke her hair.

"When you stitched my arm on my birthday... you wanted to say something to me and you didn't. What was it?" She was worried that he wouldn't remember – that it wouldn't have had the same impact on his memory as it had hers. Bella had often believed that she and Carlisle had shared something special that night. A connection. A brief fusion of something that, owing to circumstance, would never be repeated and acted on. Now, she feared it might have been her imagination.

"You asked me if I was referring to hell when I said I would be damned regardless." His words were flat, still etched with the pain he felt. "I was thinking that I was in hell... every moment I had to touch you and look at you without bearing my soul." She wondered if he was thinking of Esme and how his secret feelings must have caused such guilt and turmoil. Forbidden and illicit were dirty words with sleazy connotations, but Bella understood something that others would not be able to understand. Her connection with Carlisle had been fairly instantaneous. And undeniably she had been attracted to him that first afternoon in the hospital. But there had always been an unspoken chemistry that neither she, nor he, had any control over.

"Carlisle?"

"Hmm?"

"If guilt was a colour, what would it be?" She had no choice but to acknowledge that she felt like a cheat. Unfaithful to her inner promise of devotion to Edward for all eternity. Guilt for drawing Carlisle into temptation.

"Purple," he said heavily. "Like an ugly bruise." She knew then that he truly did feel the same sharp edge of guilt that she did. "Would it sound trite if I said _you_ had nothing to be guilty for?" She sighed, a hot breath that blew across his chest.

"Yes," she told him. "But I still appreciate that you would say it." Even if she did believe that the burden should be divided equally between them, it warmed her to think that Carlisle deemed her faultless. "I feel like I am betraying what I had with Edward." It was a testament to his character that Carlisle did not stiffen at the mention of Edward's name. A testament to his unyielding compassion.

Seconds ticked by where she was tense, worried at how he would receive her admission. "That's understandable, Bella," he assured her kindly. "I know you love Edward. I know that you must feel guilt for being here with me." Bella lifted her head, no longer tired. She braced herself on her arm, peering into the golden eyes with infinite wisdom and sociological, philosophical and cultural understanding. Carlisle Cullen could explain away and rationalise just about anything.

"That's not why I feel guilty," she supplied. "It's because I promised myself that I would love Edward forever... and I do feel an ache then I think about him, Carlisle. But it's an ache of resentment and hurt. He hurt me and he left me with a broken heart and a huge part of me thinks he doesn't deserve my forgiveness, let alone my love. I don't feel guilty for being here with you, just for how little it took to get me here. What if my love for you is fickle? Don't you worry that it might be?"

He blinked slowly, long, dark lashes spread across smooth, high cheeks. Mythical gods were nothing in compassion, for Carlisle's beauty seemed limitless. His pale lips stretched in a languid smile before he looked at her again.

"Your love is anything but fickle, my Bella..." he whispered. "I've watched you clutch at your adoration for Edward for months. But devotion must be treated with compassion and care, appreciated for the fragile thing that it is. Edward... he does love you, Bella... as much as I ought to insist that he doesn't, I cannot betray the truth. Love you he does, but his intentions are not as altruistic as he would claim them to be." He curled a tendril of her hair around his finger. "If you die at the hands of a vampire then Edward won't forgive himself and he can't take the risk of feeling that guilt for eternity." Carlisle did not tell Bella whether _he_ would take that risk. "You can't allow yourself to be bruised by this."

He bundled her close, urging her to press her hot cheek against his bare skin once more. She obeyed, allowing her eyes to fall closed as she tried to make sense of his words. Carlisle would never manipulate her with falsities or spread animosity in her heart about Edward. She trusted that his kindness extended to the boundary of sainthood.

Thirty minutes of reflective quietness slid by and her mind began to drift back into the groggy realm of sleep, when Carlisle spoke again.

"I've decided to speak with the administrators at the hospital on Monday to discuss resuming my position with them." Bella looked up, saw him gazing down at her with such tremendous adoration in his eyes that it choked her. Physically choked the breath in her throat.

"Why?" she asked brokenly.

"Because you are everything that's green to me."

-End-

I know this chapter is shorter than those that have come before it, but I feel really sick tonight guys. My head feels as though I have a lead weight around my neck :-( and my bed is like an explosion in a tissue factory... so once I clean all them away, I think I will get some much needed sleep. Thank you for reading and please do review! Pereybere x


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Disclaimer: **The characters mentioned herein do not belong to me. No infringement intended.

**Rating: **M for lemony goodness.

**Author's Note: **Some of you have mentioned that I am quick to update my chapters, and admittedly, in this story I have averaged a chapter per day. However those who read my stories over on Bones will surely beg to differ as I have a number of unfinished stories over there. The reason why I have been updating so much is because this whole Bella/Carlisle thing has really struck me and I'm really in the mood for writing it. I hope that continues until the very end! The response for the last chapter was fantastic, and it thrills me to see more favourite/alerts each time I post a new chap! I had a reviewer who left me a comment saying that she wanted to see Bella/Carlisle's weekend played out and she was disappointed that it wasn't, as she wasn't logged in I was unable to reply in a PM, so I wanted to take the chance to promise her that she will get to see their weekend with, I hope, ample lemons and limes! For anyone who read "Living Souls" you will recognise that this is twice that I have had Carlisle understanding Sanskrit. This time it is for lemony reasons!

***

The forest air was pungent, earthy and redolent with the subtle, almost reminiscent perfume of mountain laurel. Low on the hillside, an early morning mist shrouded the valley like a ghostly veil. The farmhouses belonging to wealthy land-owners possessed a certain other-worldly beauty in the tepid morning light.

Carlisle stood at the edge of a rocky chasm, a lone spectator to the magnificent sight. He fit in well here; a pale skinned, black eyed angel standing with such incredible poise that, had a human in the valley below been able to see him, they might easily have mistaken him for a divine entity. His skin glinted, a hue of sparkling colour, like a statue crafted from flawless diamonds.

Although he needed to hunt, Carlisle wanted to ingest the spectre around him, first. He did not need to breathe, but the air high on the hillside was so pure and clean that he did anyway. The deep inhalation into his lungs filled them with a dewy, aromatic essence. He allowed the cool air to settle around him, allowed himself to become immersed in his surroundings.

It was then that he was able to hear the telltale noises of nearby wildlife. His senses perked to life, for he was essentially an animal himself and the sounds from within the trees were his choice of prey. Human eyes would not have seen him move – for when he shifted from the edge of the chasm, he did so with such speed that it seemed as though he had simply disappeared. An apparition. An eerie mirage. A trick of the light.

Hunting usually provided so much satisfaction; a brief quenching of his incredible thirst. The still-warm blood was a tonic to the craving and on other occasions Carlisle would have revelled in it. Enjoyed it, even. A necessity though it was, he understood that he, like all vampires, were slaves to the addiction.

But this morning he was in a hurry. The necessity was an inconvenience and while he felt his body change in response to the nourishment, he was eager to return to the arms – the solace – of Bella Swan. Dawn had barely broke over the horizon when he had left the study and he had delayed the inevitable for as long as possible; faint purplish crescents had formed beneath his eyes and his thirst had been an insistent nagging.

His instincts, honed and lethal, seemed almost lethargic today as he struggled to summon the enthusiasm for the kill. Meandering through the trees at supersonic speeds, he caught the scent of his prey and followed it, stalked it and attacked - all while his attention was preoccupied with the thought of a naked human girl wrapped in a wool blanket in his study. When he recalled the words she had murmured in her sleep, he had been forced to stop altogether. To rest against the body of a redwood and muse.

_Just like that_.

The tantalising words that suggested at the erotic nature of her dream. How much he wanted to return to his home and give her genuine reason to say it – in reality. He had centuries worth of learning that he yearned to teach her. Erotic techniques from the Middle East, from Asia, from the sex-hungry, liberated Europeans of the eighteen hundreds. Bella would enjoy the learning experience, of that he was certain. She was so responsive, so malleable, so _attentive_.

Dragging himself away from the lurid fantasies in his mind, Carlisle pressed forward through the trees, following the pattern of hunting with absentminded certainty. Hunting was second nature to him and concentration wasn't essential, but it was the first time in his experience that he had been so confoundedly distracted.

When he didn't expect it, a vision of her perspiring, writhing body would attack his memory and an electric jolt of adrenaline and arousal would fire through him like an explosive incendiary. He would recall a whimper, a moan, a plea... the sounds of desire on the lips of a girl whose expertise was nil but whose natural instincts defied belief. Lovely, extraordinary Bella who had changed him from a brooding, introspective creature into an open – dare he think it – man.

As the sun crested the treetops, Carlisle resigned himself to the futility of the hunt. Preoccupation had prevailed and he wound the familiar path through the trees to the house. She waited for him, sitting on the bottom step of the porch, her wide eyes rounded as she searched the trees. He smiled to himself for two reasons; that she would think it were possible to catch a glimpse of him when we was running and that she was wearing one of his shirts, the pale blue fabric pulled down over her bent knees.

She had pulled her hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck and her cheeks were a dusky pink. Bella was beautiful in the shaft of sunshine that caught her.

Carlisle stepped forward and a smile brightened her face at once, a warming glow that was almost tangible to him. "Hey..." she whispered, getting to her feet. He thought he heard a suggestion of relief in her throaty morning voice. It seemed her fears of abandonment hadn't yet been fully alleviated. Instinctively, he pulled her towards him, his arms folding around her slight frame.

"Hey..." How much she seemed to relax in his embrace. "You'll catch a chill out here, Bella," he admonished. "Even if you do look remarkably... alluring." The sleeves were too long, the cuffs falling beyond her fingertips. Vulnerability suited her, and swamped in his shirt, she looked vulnerable indeed. She glanced down at herself, blushing deeply in realising how scant her attire was. Her slim, bare legs took a step backward, towards the house.

"Did you hunt?" she asked conversationally, folding an arm beneath her breasts while her right hand tugged self-consciously at the hem of his shirt. Carlisle fought the urge to grin, afraid that his amusement might force her to retreat further into her embarrassment. "Carlisle?" Her expression was quizzical, her eyes probing.

"Yes, I did." He gave himself a mental shake. "Come inside." The house permeated a certain homely warmth that had been absent until yesterday. Bella's presence had changed the solitary eeriness in mere hours. Even he could appreciate the difference. "Did you eat?" he asked and she tossed a wry smile over her shoulder.

"Yes, drill sergeant!" He chuckled, snagging her waist and drawing her toward him with such fluid speed that she cried out in surprise. An _oomph_ followed when she collided with the wall of his chest.

"I ask only because I didn't want to waste any more time." He loved the primal lust that appeared, as if by magic, in her eyes. "I haven't been able to think straight, Bella," he told her roughly. "It's as though my desire for you has taken over my mind. Are you a wicked sorceress?" Her lips quirked in a thoughtful smile, a hand reaching up to flick away a strand of hair from his forehead.

"It can't last," she said. "A man as beautiful as you must eventually realise how ordinary I am." Her body felt tense beneath his hands. "Don't look so surprised, Carlisle," she rebuked. "There's a certain inevitability in you realising that I'm not some erotic temptress. I'm an simple girl who, up until last night had been an inexperienced virgin." Her voice stumbled on the last word. "How can I possibly live up to your expectations?" It seemed as though, in the light of a new day, old insecurities had resurfaced with devastating consequence.

Carlisle took her hand, harder than he ought to have. "I will show you how." The minute shiver that claimed her at this harsh insistence pleased him. "Wait in the study while I wash."

***

He found her in an armchair, a pile of papers in her hand. The fire had burned out, the ashes dark in the hearth, but the study was balmy, still.

"Is this your handwriting?" she asked by way of greeting, looking up as she turned the pages towards him. Carlisle recognised his careful script.

"Yes, and it's ironic that you would have picked this to try to read." She set the bundle on her lap, brows knitted in a frown.

"Well, as I don't understand it, I fail to see the irony. What is it?" Carlisle sank into the armchair next to hers, the familiar scent of her consuming him almost immediately. He permit himself an indulgent moment of breathing her in, reacquainting himself with her. When he opened his eyes, the quizzical look had returned. How curious a creature she was... and how he hoped she would remain so.

"It's a tutorial," he explained. "Written in its original form almost two thousand years ago. These are merely notes that I have made. I felt that the original language preserved the meaning more profoundly." Bella's eyes burned with inquisitiveness and the anticipation of her questions aroused him, made him hard.

"What's _jihva-mardita_?" she asked. "You've written it in phonetic letters." Her accent didn't grasp the intonation of the words, but her attempt was highly arousing anyway. Carlisle shifted, painfully aware of his erection straining against the fabric of his pants.

"Let me translate a paragraph for you, and perhaps it will become clear." Obligingly, she passed him the bundle of pages. Truly, he did not require the prompting of his notes. He knew almost every verse of the ancient text; had studied and devoured it with such wonderment at its explicit beauty. "_Jihva-mardita: let your tongue rest for a moment in the archway to the flower-bowed Lord's temple, before entering to worship vigorously, causing her seed to flow_." He chanced a glance at her, saw that she was both affected and embarrassed by the metaphor.

"You handwrote a sex tutorial?" she asked, astounded. Carlisle laughed then, a warmth of brilliant, golden joy exploding in his chest.

"It's the _Kama Sutra_, Bella. The most famous and erotic text in history." She looked as though something had dawned in her memory.

"Oh, I've heard of that. Some of my friends back in Phoenix made us go into an adult store and they spent like half an hour in the corner smirking over the pictures." She rolled her eyes. "Pretty lame, huh?" Carlisle was irrationally annoyed that her first experience of something as beautiful as the _Kama Sutra_ had been in the corner of a seedy store with a poor replica with explicit photographs. He kept himself in check.

"I guess all teenagers are curious," he supposed. "But the original writings are wonderful, Bella. As you will learn." Did he catch a glimmer of trepidation in her burning eyes? Her teeth worried at her lower lip as she considered what his assurance meant to her. A slow, predatory smile pulled on his mouth and Bella visibly swallowed. It was the first time in history that he craved the taste of something other than blood.

Her hand tugged at the hem of his shirt again but his senses were unparalleled, and as much as her expression wished to hint at coyness, he smelt her arousal. The rosy blush that adorned her cheeks was customary now. The slight tremble of her fingers as she lifted her hand to swipe away a strand of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail made him realise just how unsure of herself Bella was.

"Don't be afraid," he said and her hand dropped.

"I'm not." Her insistence was weak and she knew it. "Well... I am a little nervous. That's some pretty potent stuff you just read out just now." She smiled wanly and followed with a small shrug.

"Take the shirt off, Bella," he commanded her in a rough voice that forbid questioning. He had dressed himself in navy cargo pants after he had purged himself of the pungent scent of animal blood. His chest had remained bare because it hardly seemed worthwhile overdressing when he knew with certainty that he was going to remove them at the soonest opportunity. "Come." She was unsteady as she unfolded her legs and got to her feet. The subtle tremble in her fingers was a positive tremor, now.

Carlisle set the bundle of papers aside, leaning forward on the armchair to pluck open the buttons on the shirt. Bella's hands slid over his bare arms, steadying herself. His skin was soothingly cool, as it away was, and his eyes were resolutely determined. As he peeled open the folds of the shirt, exposing her flesh, her grasp on his arms tightened. He thought she might collapse entirely, and placed his own hands on her slim hips. His thumbs drew slow, neat circles around the slight protrusion of her hipbones. Her rosy nipples hardened at once and Carlisle could hear the shallow, laboured pitch of her breath.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. Her throat sounded dry.

He leaned forward, pressing his open lips to the small curve of her belly and her breathing hiked. "Jihva-mardita," he whispered against the cushion of her skin. His accent was flawless and the sound was filled with suggestive promise. Bella elicited a moan as she replayed in her mind exactly what that entailed. She remembered words like tongue... temple and worship.

His mouth trailed leisurely from her belly button to the nest of soft curls between her legs. Each kiss, deliberate and yet momentary, brought a breathy sigh to her lips. Carlisle smiled, his hands parting her unsteady legs to press his lips, his tongue, against her damp inner-thighs. Her left, first and then her right. He felt her fingers slip into his hair, clutching at the strands as though they represented the reins of her self-control.

Carlisle's hands slipped over the backs of her thighs, urging her closer, up to cup her buttocks. Kneading the tender flesh, he brought his mouth higher to taste the juice of her arousal and she murmured aloud then; a strangled _please_ that turned his cock to steel. He did not indulge her, enjoying the prospect of sweet torture. His tongue brushed over her slick folds, higher to the wet nub of her clitoris that responded readily to the attention.

Pressing her harder into his mouth, he drew tight circles around her clit before suckling the bud between his lips entirely. Her hips shot forward, her fingers cupping the back of his skull and pressing urgently. Shy, though she pretended to be, Bella wanted to feel the tempestuous waves of an orgasm crashing through her and he understood that desire in her. When he brought one hand between her thighs and slipped two fingers into her, her wetness spilled forth. She clenched around him, walls fluttering like butterflies wings.

Bella arched, rolling her hips against the suckles of his mouth and the increasing speed of his fingers pumping inside her. "_Oh_..." she sighed. Her fingers were fists in his hair, pulling harshly – he didn't notice the pain. Pressing the tip of his tongue to her clit then, he administered gentle flicks to the bundle of nerves, certain that it would take only a matter of moments until she succumbed. Already her thighs had tensed and her spine was rigid. The breathy pleas came in quick succession, each more urgent than the last, until she was almost begging for release. He felt her inner walls tighten and slowed the pace of his fingers until the blinding rapture slipped out of her grasp. Teeth nipped at the slick bud before his tongue massaged the teasing infliction. Twice more he brought her to the edge, denying her at the last moment.

"_Carlisle_," she hissed fiercely. "_Let me come_." He smiled languidly against her wet, swollen flesh, stroking into her in short, even thrusts. When the tension had mounted and he was certain once final stroke would release her, Carlisle withdrew his fingers entirely and replaced them with his tongue.

_Enter to worship vigorously, causing her seed to flow._

Sweet, wet warmth flooded his tongue as she came into his mouth, her fist tugging at his hair. She trembled, rolled her hips and cried out – an actual cry – that sounded half euphoric, half pained.

"_Oh... my... goddd_..." He licked her, drinking her nectar as though it were a tonic. Holding her firmly against his lips, his continued to suckle her even as the tremors of her orgasm had begun to subside. "Please," she moaned. "You're going to kill me." Teasing, torturing even, he pushed his tongue into her once more, pleased when her walls gave an obliging quiver.

Satisfied, he pressed a kiss to her thigh once more and reclined back. Her eyes were wide and glazed as she clenched and unclenched her fingers, willing sensation back into the aching joints. He watched a searing red blush set her cheeks alight, and grinned, pulling her into his arms and onto his lap.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Her heartbeat had rocketed and he could hear the rapid thumping against her chest.

"I don't know," she answered, her voice still not altogether steady. "My legs feel like lead." He kissed her bare arm and noted that her post-coital bliss had shed her of her modesty, for Bella didn't appear concerned at her nudity. Pressing her fingertips to her cheeks, she blew out a long breath. "There could be something to this whole _Kama Sutra _thing." Carlisle laughed openly, squeezing her.

"I promise you, there is." She met his gaze then and smiled sweetly, hinting a minx-like naughtiness beneath the surface.

"Is there... you know... a male version of that in that book, anywhere?" she enquired and Carlisle felt his loins tighten at once.

"Yes... it's called _sangara_." Bella pursed her lips in thought, wriggling back against the length of his shaft, still rigid.

"And how does that translate?" She promised herself that the torture she had received would be returned, and that he would be taught a valuable lesson about those moments on the verge of bliss that felt like a balance between heaven and hell. He would know what she had felt. His eyes were a burnished copper.

"It means _swallowed whole_." Did she see intrigue and anticipation there, in his gaze? Bella laughed, a diabolical cackle that made him stiffen – half in worry and half in sweet expectancy.

"Oh, Carlisle Cullen, you are going to get your just desserts."

-End-

**A/N: **I actually had a more explicit scene in my mind, but I'm forced to tone it down for this archive. For my other stories I usually write an MA version that be emailed to readers on demand, if they prefer it, and perhaps I will do that with some Bella/Carlisle fics. I'm beginning to feel a little bit better, but I know as soon as I go to bed I will wake up in the morning as bad as ever. :|!! Anyway, thank you for your amazing responses so far, and do let me know if you liked! Pereybere x.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title: **Saviour in the Night

**Rating: **M rated overall.

**Disclaimer: **None of the characters mentioned herein belong to me. No infringement is intended.

**Author's Note: **Well, I have decided that realistically, Bella and Carlisle's little union wouldn't be without drama. After all, Edward and the rest of the Cullens are still out there and certainly there would be questions raised about Carlisle running off to Forks and being with Bella. So this chapter is my attempt at dealing with that. I hope you don't despair too much of the shift from pure romance to a pit of angst!

***

Carlisle heard it first.

His acute senses had detected that something was amiss minutes before Bella had. "Get dressed." He ordered as he withdrew from her embrace and pulled the shirt she had discarded over his arms. She frowned, perplexed by the sudden shift in his mood. It was against his nature to be jovial one moment and brooding the next. The rigid set of his jaw worried her and when she heard the slam of the door downstairs, she leapt from the armchair and gathered the clothes strewn across the rug.

"Carlisle?" she whispered, eyes wide. The knot in her stomach was one of fear – for she knew only too well the evils that lurked in the shadows of the world she inhibited. Bloodthirsty vampires were one. He appeared not to hear her, his darkening eyes focused on the study door.

"Stay here," he commanded, looking very much like the dangerous predator that he was. The firm ropey muscles of his back, that she had been admiring only hours earlier, were rigid as he stalked with the silent grace of a cat towards the door. Bella swallowed the lump of panic that had solidified in her throat as she quickly redressed. Although her instincts urged her to flee from the possibility of danger, she crept behind him, ignoring the warning flash in his territorial eyes.

The corridor, always so bright and airy, seemed positively claustrophobic and almost endless as they edged towards the staircase. "Stop skulking, Carlisle!" The voice was Emmett's. Bella froze, no longer afraid for her life, but for something else entirely. "Come down stairs." Carlisle's stance became defeatist, suddenly. As though were realising that he had lost a battle. Tipping his head back, preparing himself, he appeared on the top step. "Tell Bella there's no point in hiding. Her scent is everywhere."

_Oh God..._ a wave of humiliation swamped her.

Aside from Edward, they were all there; Emmett and Rosalie, Alice and Jasper and at the end of a stony row of faces; Esme. Their expressions were stoic, almost cold, as their golden eyes shifted between Bella and Carlisle. It was the first time that Alice had regarded her with anything less than complete warmth, and Bella felt a raw ache in her belly at the sudden shift in the Cullens attitude towards her.

"What is that _smell_?" Emmett's nose wrinkled and next to him, Rosalie stiffened. Her glare burned.

"Sex," she hissed. "They wreak of sex." Alice lowered her eyes, disappointment written across her beautiful, pixie-like features. She shook her head. "I hope you are pleased with yourself," Rosalie added, the full force of her angry ferociousness directed at Bella. "You destroyed a family." The phrase _home-wrecker _whirled in her mind.

"Rosalie," Carlisle barked roughly. The elegant blonde at the bottom of the stairs looked stricken for a moment. "This is not Bella's fault."

"No," Esme spoke suddenly, her kind voice unfalteringly calm. "It's not Bella's fault, is it, Carlisle?" The implication was clear; his wife of almost eighty-four years blamed him for the tatters their family had become. Bella struggled to breathe – the atmosphere in the home once shared by these creatures was tense and pungent, indeed not only with sex but with resentment and accusation. She braced her hand on the wall. "We're not here about you and Bella," Esme continued swiftly. "Alice predicted it months ago." Bella's heart sank at the flicker of hurt that shadowed her statuesque features. "We're here about Edward."

Five pairs of golden eyes lowered to the floor and an overwhelming sense of dread settled to all but suffocate Bella. "E-Edward?" Her voice sounded broken. "What's happened to him?" Next to her, Carlisle looked haunted. Although he remained upright, his body was rigid and his face showed no indication that he had heard Bella's cracking voice.

"He has been wounded. Here, in Forks." Esme cast a pointed glare at Carlisle once more. "Alice?"

"He knows... about the... two of you." Alice whispered these last words as though they were a poison her lips. "He has been attacked by Victoria... she outnumbered him." Jasper reached out to grasp her hand. "We'll have to search the forest." Although she looked as she always did; trendy and poised like a dainty ballerina, something was unmistakably different about Alice. "Before they come back to finish him off." Her face was haunted by the visions she had received and although Bella did not possess the power to see them too, it was possible to imagine.

Carlisle descended the stairs and suddenly she felt like a circus marvel atop a pedestal, alone as they continued to stare up at her. Only Jasper kept his ochre eyes on the floor.

"Can you see where he is, Alice?" Carlisle asked, his voice businesslike and Bella knew at once at he would organise his family accordingly, whether his input was wanted or not.

"There's a river nearby," was the only information that Alice could obtain. "I can hear it. The rain has made it swell and it's noisy." If she possessed the ability to cry, Bella was certain that the petite vampire would have succumbed. "He's weak and thirsty." Esme's small hand squeezed her adoptive daughter's hand comfortingly, as though urging her on.

Carlisle straightened his shoulders. "We will conduct separate searches along the river banks. Rose and Esme, you go with Emmett and start west. Alice, Jasper and I will go east." No one voice objections, despite the palpable tensions as they regarded the man they had previously respected and revered. Bella stiffened.

"What about me?" she asked, finding her courage amidst the humiliation. They looked up – all six of them as though they had only remembered she was there. "Who will I go with?" The guilt was tremendous; Edward was in danger because of _her_. Because he had discovered that she had fallen in love with Carlisle.

"Bella we need to conduct this search with speed," he said, meeting her halfway on the stairs. She saw apology in his eyes as he strived to be tactful in letting her down. Although his dismissal of her help hurt, Bella kept her jaw resolute. "You should stay here..."

"But..."

"Bella," he implored and over his shoulder she could see the faces of his family. Of the people who had previously protected and – for the most part – adored her.

"It's alright, Carlisle." Jasper's spoke softly, his calming influence could be felt even in his voice. "You go with Alice and I will go with Bella." His eyes were impassive as he stared ahead, not really looking at either one of them.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea, Jasper," Carlisle said.

"We're wasting time!" Alice barked with far more ferocity than Bella believed she possessed. "Go with Jasper," she said shortly. "We need to leave now." Bella retraced her steps to the study, pulling on her shoes as the vampires muttered amongst themselves – making plans and suggestions that Bella could not be privy to, owing to the hurried and lowly way in which they spoke.

_If Edward dies_, she thought to herself, noting the tremble of her fingers as she hurried to tie her laces. _How could I forgive myself? _The handwritten notes from the _Kama Sutra_ lay on the table – a resounding reminder of the time she'd spent locked away in this same study with Carlisle. She struggled with her conscience, hating herself for feeling guilty and for not feeling guilty enough.

"Lets go, Bella!" Emmett called from the hallway downstairs. Dragged back to the present, she jerked to her feet and rushed to meet them. Each time one of the family looked at her, she caught the edge of accusation – thinly veiled. Betrayal. Hurt. They blamed her for what had happened to Edward and Bella realised this was something she had in common with each of them.

The previously beautiful forest – a living, breathing entity of magic and wonder – had become the bowels of a dangerous creature. It was vast and treacherous, laden with danger and obstacles and it felt as though it would be an impossibility to find Edward in the hectares of mountainous vegetation. The monstrous trees stretched skyward like a foreboding army standing shoulder to shoulder.

Groups had been reorganised; Rosalie, Emmett and Esme heading west, Alice and Carlisle moving west with Bella and Jasper departing to the north of the house, higher into the mountains. The agreement was to return to the house in an hour in case Alice's visions changed. A sense of gloom and pessimism descended on the group as they broke apart – whizzing ghosts in a flash of colour before they disappeared into the forest.

Jasper stayed with Bella on the porch.

"Jasper..." finding the words to thank him for the show of kindness in the house was futile, for anything she could say would invariably sound trite.

"You'll need to get on my back," he turned his head towards her, unruly blond curls falling over his eyes. "We can't waste time." She wanted to say more but the glint in his eyes commanded that she did not fill their time together with explanations. Obeying, Bella slipped her arms around his cold neck and pressed herself against the rigid breadth of his back. The hands that gripped her thighs were firm.

The supersonic speed in which the vampires ran could easily make her vomit, but today it was the image of Edward that made her stomach flip sickeningly. She preferred the blur of the trees as they flew by to the imaginings in her head. Would Victoria return to complete her revenge on the Cullens? Would she burn the pieces of Edward as they had to James?

"There's a river nearby, we will conduct a search there." Businesslike, just like the rest of the family. What she had thought was an act of kindness might just have been a decision Jasper had made to ensure less time was wasted in argument.

"I'm sorry, Jasper."

"Not now, Bella." He didn't sound angry or disappointed, merely indifferent. Or perhaps resigned. "Lets concentrate on finding Edward." She kept her head down then, afraid that if she was insistent in her apology, Jasper might change his mind and return her to the house.

The river was swollen, indeed. Rapids of white-capped water thundered over the rocks and lapped at the muddy banks. The noise was deafening and coupled with the cascading waterfall that raged about half a mile away, Bella could near nothing else. Jasper stood at the edge of the river, drawing deep breaths of scented air into his lungs – as though he were trying to sniff out his missing brother. He had adopted almost animalistic traits; his head snapped in the direction of minute sounds, like a cat and his eyes had darkened to the colour of bronze.

"He's not here..." Bella stood still, afraid that the smallest of movements on her part might distract him. "Northward," Jasper directed, preparing to set off again. The sounds of the waterfall became closer, then, as they raced off. Only when a misty rain fell against her cheeks, did Bella realise how close they were.

She had begun to wonder what help she could offer to the search; without supersonic speed or acute hearing and smell, she was but a human clutching to the shoulders of a vampire. Yet she knew it was preferable to the alternative – which was brooding alone in the vast, empty house on the mountainside.

Jasper knelt by the water, peering at the misting waterfall, as the vague rainbow as the sunlight caught the ghostly droplets in their descent. His eyes were glazed, his mind elsewhere. Bella shifted, swallowing hard.

"I don't hate you, Bella." His voice was hushed, as though the words didn't come easily. She stepped closer, this statement like a soothing balm to her aching heart. Even if only one member of the Cullen family didn't hate her for the choices she had made, it was enough for now. Jasper's pale hand cut through the raging water as she dipped his fingers into the torrent. "I'm to blame for all this." She gaped at him, startled. When he levelled his coppery gaze on her, the confliction in his eyes forced her to a halt – rooted her to the damp undergrowth.

"Jas-"

"It's true, Bella. I lost control of myself... attacked you. Edward forced us to leave Forks because of me. Because of what I did." His melodic voice, hypnotic and songlike, was filled with heavy melancholy. "You would have been happy with him... Carlisle wouldn't have left us to come and ensure your wellbeing and..." the rest was left unspoken, for which she was grateful. To hear the reality of the situation voiced by a man as broken as Jasper would have been the ultimate devastation. "It was _me_ that destroyed the family."

Finding her legs, Bella strode towards him and ignored the look of despair that he threw her way when she slipped her arm shoulder his shoulders. "It's not your fault," she insisted harshly. "We can't help who we fall for." The feelings she had developed for Carlisle went beyond the fascinated adulation of her love for Edward. There was maturity in the way that Carlisle reasoned and explained. He regarded her as an adult and not a child that needed to be protected.

"It hardly matters now, does it?" Jasper straightened himself, Bella's arm slipping away from his shoulder. "Edward matters now." His raked away the wild curls and turned his probing gaze to the forestry again. "Lets go, Bella." She grasped his wrist.

"Jasper, I didn't mean to cause this much damage," she blurted. "I just followed my heart." The vampire before her smiled thinly.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you, Bella? The heart only tells us what we feel. It's the brain we're supposed to think with."

And then they were moving like a gust of wind through the trees in silence, leaving Bella to contemplate the weightiness of his words.

-End-

**A/N: **I'm sorry that I didn't update yesterday, guys. My sickness gave me a terrible headache and even looking at my laptop made it worse. I hope to be back on course now though. I think the Cullens needed to be introduced round about now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, for all its angst. Thanks for reading and do review! Thanks!


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